


Someone to Stay With

by SylanaMotara (IrelaNictari)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Alternate Universe -BSD Canon Divergence post season 3, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dazai was never human, M/M, References to Voyager, Time Travel Sucks, everyone else is alt versions, mentioned odakou, oda's alive but not in this fic (well a version of him anyway), only Dazai is still Dazai, post ds9 final episode, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrelaNictari/pseuds/SylanaMotara
Summary: Dazai finds himself in DS9's infirmary with some nasty wounds and a decade's worth of missing memories. Oh, and he keeps running into people that look incredibly familiar. What has he been doing for the past ten years, and why does the sight of the redheaded security chief hurt so damn much?
Relationships: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 74





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a discord conversation with the lovely quinnlocke. Hope you like it, Q. This is all your fault :)
> 
> Also, this is post-canon (or at least post-last episode) for both DS9 and BSD. Therefore a lot of the original DS9 cast will not be appearing, as they've moved on.

Dazai Osamu woke up, head pounding, shivering, and in a place he’d never seen before. He was on a bed in a _tiny_ room, surrounded by beeping machines and various incredibly barbaric tools that looked like they belonged to some sort of primitive medicine man. Dazai wasn’t sure he’d grant them the title of _doctors_ , not until he actually saw them. Not that he’d ever needed such a thing before. 

He still wasn’t sure what he was doing here. The last thing he remembered was…

Japan?

On Earth?

He’d…

He’d been...

Running from something. Something big. Something _painful._ So, he’d taken refuge in the past, on a planet that wouldn’t see warp drive for another half-century. He’d been there for… a decade? A little over, he thought.

So how?

It must be the head injury. The only question was whether the memory loss was permanent or if it would come back eventually. In the meantime, he was somewhere definitely not on Earth, and somewhere in the 24th century, from the tech.

Well.

He could play human, for now. It wouldn’t be the first time.

A few moments later, a brown-haired woman in a lab coat came into the room. “Oya! And how’s my newest patient doing? I see you’re awake. How do you feel?”

 _Play human._ “I have a headache and I’m cold. Other than that, I’m fine. Where am I?” Dazai squinted up at her. Something was glinting in her hair- a pin, with some sort of winged insect (a butterfly, his memory supplied) on it. Something about it twanged a memory, but he was too preoccupied to chase it down just then.

“DS9. You came through the wormhole on an almost derelict shuttle. Frankly, I’m surprised you survived. You must be tougher than you look…” The doctor cocked an eyebrow.

 _Thank us for small favors, I suppose._ “Dazai. Dazai Osamu. I… don’t really remember much of the past few weeks. I have no idea how I ended up in that shuttle, much less here.” Dazai laid back, eyes closed, one part of his prodigious mind already working on his cover story and background. 

_Through the wormhole, huh. DS9 means I’m on the Federation side, so I came from what they call the Gamma quadrant. Looks like I’ll have to get into their computers and create myself an identity._

Meanwhile, the doctor was still talking. “I’m not surprised. You took a rather nasty blow to the head at some point, and there was a fairly deep stab wound in your stomach. I patched them both up, but you’d lost a lot of blood. How you made it through the wormhole with those wounds is a mystery. I’m Yosano, by the way. Doctor Yosano Akiko. I’ll let you rest for a bit. Once that headache clears up, Colonel Kira will want to speak with you.”

“Alright, Doctor Yosano.” _This… is going to be interesting._

The headache faded fairly quickly, although Dazai played it up when one of the nurses checked on him later. He needed the time to think, and to test what powers, if any, he’d been left with. He could feel some of it, but the rush of power that normally lived under his skin was a trickle of its normal self.

_Well, at least I’m not completely helpless._

Colonel Kira turned out to be a Bajoran, with all the attitude and fire that implied. Dazai had met her kind before, and liked her immediately. He always had had a thing for spitfires.

“The doctor tells me you can’t remember the last few weeks. Where did you come from before then?” she asked. 

_Why is that always their first question?_

“A lot of places. I’m something of a traveling scholar, you might say. Originally, though, I’m from Earth, but I haven’t been there in a while.” There, that was mostly true. The last time he’d set foot on the planet had been sometime during the early 21st century, by their calendar.

Huh. That was odd. He could remember being there, but…

His actual memories of his time there were gone. He _knew_ he’d spent time in Japan. But what he did there and who he’d met… all that had been erased.

Frustration roiled through him. Of all the times to lose his fucking _memory._ Something must have happened, something that brought him close enough to death that he ended up here. If only he could remember it...

The major was looking at him expectantly. Apparently he’d missed something. “Sorry, I’m still a little disoriented. Could you repeat that?”

“I said, the name Dazai Osamu doesn’t show up anywhere in the Federation’s databases. And your shuttle wasn’t registered to anyone we know about. Where are you really from?” Kira was not amused, especially since she’d been getting ready to leave for a meeting with the Indaran ambassador when Dazai had arrived at the station. 

“I use a number of aliases. And my parents were rather… unconventional. They were part of a small neo-Luddite movement on Earth, so it’s not surprising my existence was never registered. I left as a teenager and have been roaming around ever since. It wasn’t really an issue until I got stuck on the other side of the wormhole during the war.” That should explain a bit. Movements like that popped up all the time on Earth and its daughter colonies- humans were interesting and exciting, but get too many of them together and they tended to come up with the weirdest ideas.

“Is that so. Well, Dazai, I don’t have time to deal with this right now. So, for the moment, you’re free to leave sickbay once Yosano clears you. You’ll be restricted to the Promenade and your quarters for now. I’ll let security know to keep an eye out for you.” She looked at the doctor and raised an eyebrow. “Doctor?”

Yosano nodded. “He should be good to go now. The headache will clear up shortly. Dazai, there’s a replicator in the corner. You can use it to make yourself some new clothes- your old ones were pretty much trashed when we found you.”

“Right. Thanks Doc. Thank you, Colonel. I’ll try to stay out of your hair.” That was true enough. He really didn’t plan on staying here that long.

Kira just gave him a look, one that clearly said _I don’t believe you but we’ll see._ “Good day, Doctor, Dazai.” With that, she spun on her heel and left.

_Fair enough._

“Alright, I’ll leave you to get dressed. Come out when you’re ready.” Yosano smiled at him, and retreated as well.

“Clothes. Right. I guess that’s a thing.” Dazai decided to actually use the replicator. Showing off what few powers of his remained was probably a bad idea- most likely they had cameras or some sort of monitoring device in here. An image flashed through his mind- blue shirt, dark vest, off-white pants, and a long tan coat. And… bandages. Covering him, neck, torso and arms. Why was that?

Curious, he used one of the reflective surfaces in the room to look at himself. He was dressed in a jumpsuit of some sort, long sleeved and one piece. He hated it on sight. Still, there was something… 

Scars. Scars on his neck. And when he unsealed the top of the jumpsuit and pulled it off, there were more, covering his torso and arms. Everything from burns to what looked like self-inflicted razor cuts. Well. That explained the bandages, but…

He was a _Q._ Immortal, practically invulnerable, able to bend reality at a whim.

 _Why the_ hell _did he have scars?_

Mind and fingers racing, he programmed the replicator to produce an outfit that resembled the one in his mind. It probably looked rather odd for this time period, but that didn’t really faze him. He also summoned several rolls of bandages, and, after a moment, started applying them.

It was...familiar. The muscle memory was there, ingrained into him as if he’d done this a thousand times or more. Even the join at the ends was familiar, and the feel of them against his skin was just _right,_ somehow. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the implications of that. It meant whatever has caused them, it had been over the space of years.

Just what had he done in that city? Who had Dazai Osamu been, that he’d resorted to _this?_

He dressed quickly. The outfit was a little off, but he could fiddle with the settings later. He had a station to explore. And, from the look of it, a personal mystery to solve. 


	2. Chuuya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dazai runs into a familiar(ish) face and starts getting a few answers.

Fully dressed (and after he remembered to add shoes. Those were a thing. And _fuck_ the floor was cold), Dazai left sickbay, nodding at Yosano as he walked. It felt good to be out of the tiny room, but he knew he was still being watched. The small insignia that had appeared with his clothes would guarantee that, although that could probably be fooled fairly easily.

So. First stop. Maybe food. And a drink. He could really go for a whisky right now. It would be easy enough to convert the synthehol into real alcohol, and even this depowered human body would take a bit to get tipsy. A quick query told him the location of the nearest bar; the only one, from the look of things. Someplace called ‘Quark’s’. Okay then.

It would figure it was being run by a Ferengi. 

Oh well. Needs must.

He ordered a simple crab dish and a whisky on the rocks. A tiny pulse of power converted the drink to real whisky, and he sipped it appreciatively. The food appeared a moment later. It was passable, although he resolved to go in and tweak the recipe later. 

That gave him pause. Why did he have a _very_ specific crab cake recipe in his head?

Shaking it off, he finished his food, then turned to survey the rest of the bar. It looked very similar to most establishments he’d been in over the years- a mix of visitors and station personnel, a couple of dabo tables complete with pretty girls of various species, and the requisite patron who was about to get _very_ upset over his losing streak. 

He sipped his whisky as the burly Tellarite started yelling about rigged tables and unfair practices. And, of course, the dabo girls hadn’t a clue how to handle him. Speaking politely to a Tellarite was like trying to get an emotional response out of a Vulcan. It didn’t really do anyone any good. Still, it was fun to watch.

And then, a short, slim figure with long, fiery orange hair, dressed in a Starfleet security uniform, stepped up. At first, Dazai thought they were female- the uniform was form-fitting, and the curves were very evident. Still, their shoulders were broad, and their voice was definitely masculine. Low and raspy, yet forceful, and they- he- definitely knew what he was doing. The following interchange made most of the listeners wince, but damn, was it a thing of beauty. 

As was the security officer. After a solid ten minutes of insults and some extremely blunt terminology, the conflict ended, and the officer turned to face the bar.

Dazai almost dropped his whisky.

Striking blue eyes surveyed the room, a fire, stirred by the exchange, blazing in them. He was Bajoran, but not entirely so. Half-human, maybe? It wasn’t unheard of, and he _was_ fairly young. Early twenties, perhaps. Just out of Starfleet academy then. He must be good if he were already in charge of security on a base like this; although, from what he’d just seen, it wasn’t impossible. 

The officer spotted Dazai staring, and a small smirk that made Dazai go weak tugged at his lips. He came over, leaning up against the bar and waving at Quark for a drink. “Hello there. You’re the one we found on that shuttle, right? You’re looking a heck of a lot better than you did when we pulled you off it. I’m Nakahara Chuuya, head of station security. Kira told me to keep an eye on you.”

_You can keep an eye on me twenty-four/seven. God._ “Dazai Osamu. Nice to meet you.” His voice was even sexier like this, and something low in Dazai’s gut twinged. He _knew_ that voice. Knew it like he knew how to wrap the bandages, like he knew his own name. Like it was something he’d heard so often that his body remembered, even if his mind didn’t.

What the hell was going on here?

Japan was three centuries ago. How could someone he’d known there be _here_?

And why did he want so desperately to kiss him and never let go?

Nakahara’s drink arrived, and the officer stared at it a little forlornly. “Still can’t get a decent red in this place,” he said, before climbing up onto the barstool next to Dazai.

_Wine, huh. Hmmm._

As Nakahara was busy getting situated, Dazai’s fingers reached out and touched the glass. A tiny touch of power… and the taste of Merlot came back to him, light reflecting off a glass much like the one in front of him, soft laughter across the room....

He shook it off. Nakahara had raised the glass to his lips, and his eyes widened at the taste. The redhead put the glass down, staring into it in shock. “That’s… but it _can’t_ be. How?”

Well, that was unexpected. “Something wrong?” Dazai asked.

Nakahara looked at him. “I’m not sure. This,” he said, gesturing at the glass, “shouldn’t be here. It’s my family’s vineyard- my father’s side, anyway. But it’s impossible to replicate exactly, and they don’t ship it off Earth. Transporters kill the flavor. I haven’t seen a bottle since I left the Academy. There’s no way Quark got a hold of one all the way out here. And if he did he wouldn’t be serving it at the bar. They’re worth a fortune offworld.”

Oh. Oops. Dazai had changed it to a vintage he remembered, one he’d enjoyed… somewhere, with someone important. The memory vanished again.

Damn it, when he figured out what had done this to him, it was dead. Slowly, painfully, torn apart atom by atom dead.

“Family business, huh? How long have they been vintners?” Maybe he could get an answer or two anyway.

“Oh, centuries. My dad’s side is Japanese, but my many-times great grandfather was something of an aficionado. His boyfriend gifted him a winery in Bordeaux on his 20th birthday.” Nakahara looked thoughtful as he spoke. “That was, oh, 2017 by Earth’s calendar. It’s been in the family ever since.”

“Boyfriend. Not husband? What happened?” Dazai was curious. He’d been on Earth then, if he remembered correctly.

“Um. It’s kind of a sad story, actually. They’d been together since they were sixteen, but the boyfriend- I don’t remember his name at the moment- kept putting off the idea of them getting married. He never really explained why, just said something about how Grandfather should be with someone who was going to be around his entire life. It’s almost like he knew.”

“Knew what?” Dazai asked, but he thought, perhaps, he already knew how the story ended.

“A few years later, the boyfriend disappeared. Just up and vanished into thin air. Grandfather looked for him, but a few months after that a lawyer showed up with a letter and a will. It basically told him to stop looking, that he wasn’t coming back, and to move on and be happy with someone who could stay with him. The will- left him a fortune. Enough for him to retire at twenty-four and just run the winery as a hobby.”

“And did he?” Dazai’s throat was tight. Dammit, why was this getting to him?

“Eventually. It took awhile for him to get over the anger and accept it. We Nakaharas have always had tempers. Dad says it comes with the red hair. Anyway, eventually, Grandfather met a girl, settled down, had a family, but he never forgot his first love. He even renamed the winery after their nickname. Chateau Double Noir. Double Black.” Nakahara paused, and raised his glass to finish it.

Double Black. _Soukoku._ Why did that mean something?

“So what was your grandfather’s name?” Dazai almost couldn’t ask the question. He was fairly certain he knew the answer anyway.

“Hmm? Oh. It was Chuuya. I’m named after him. Dad thought it fitting.”

“Why is that?” _God. Nakahara Chuuya. Why do you mean so much to me? Why does just thinking of that name hurt so much?_

“Well, we’ve always had red hair, which is odd for a Japanese line, but it seems to be a thing with us. But, I was the first to get the blue eyes since Grandfather. In fact, except for Mom’s Bajoran traits, I’m pretty much the spitting image of him. There are still pictures of him in the Bordeaux house, along with some of his old journals. I’ve read them- not the journals themselves, but the family digitized them somewhere along the line. They didn’t make a lot of sense, though. Everything was some sort of word salad poetry.” Nakahara smiled at that. “I’m a lot like him, if the stories are any indication. Guess it was inevitable. One of us had to be a troublemaker eventually.”

“So how long did he live?” _And was he happy?_

“Ninety-five. He and Grandmother were together sixty-five years and had five kids, two girls and three boys. From what I remember, he named them all after old friends of his.” Nakahara closed his eyes, thinking. “Let’s see. Atsushi, Ryuunosuke, Kouyou, Kyouka, and Osamu. I’m descended from Osamu, the eldest.”

Every one of those names was a knife, plunging directly into his soul.

Especially his own.

Dazai’s head ached from the strain of trying to remember, and he leaned forward to rest it on his arms. Nakahara looked at him, concerned. “You okay?”

“Head still hurts a bit,” Dazai said. At least he had something to blame it on. “I think I’ll go lay down for a bit until it stops.”

“Good idea. Here. This place is confusing until you get the hang of it. I’ll walk you back to the guest quarters and get you set up in your room, okay?” Nakahara stood as he spoke and offered Dazai a hand up.

The brunette raised his head enough to look at it. He was oddly reluctant to take it, but he sighed faintly and did so anyway. And then immediately regretted it, as an electric current ran down his arm.

Nakahara cursed briefly and released him. “The hell was that?” he asked.

“I’m sure I don’t know, Chibi,” Dazai said. Now where the hell had _that_ come from?

The redhead looked at him curiously. “Chibi? How do you know that name?”

What.

Dazai must have looked as confused as he felt, because Nakahara clarified. “My father always called me that. Apparently it was Grandfather’s boyfriend’s nickname for him, and it kind of stuck. Dad resurrected it for some godforsaken reason.”

Oh.

_Oh._

He’d always known the universe had a sick sense of humor. How could he not? But this. If he was right, this was just straight-up _sadistic._ And he’d never really been into pain.

He took a step forward and swayed. Nakahara caught him, by the arm this time, and steadied hiim. “Alright, Dazai, let’s get you to your room and into bed before you fall over.”

_Can you come with me?_

Dazai nodded. He really couldn’t stay here. “Lead on, Nakahara.”

“Chuuya. Call me Chuuya. Everyone except Kira does.”

_Well. Fuck._

“Okay. Chuuya.”

Thank the gods for turbolifts. And there _were_ gods. He’d met several. For the most part, they weren’t all that terribly impressive. A few, though… there had been a few that had been worth his time. 

The sound of maniacal laughter rang through his ears, and he shook his head to clear it. 

They’d arrived in the guest quarters and Chuuya led him to a room. He fiddled with the touchpad on the door for a moment, then stepped back. “Alright. You’re all set- the door is coded to your biometrics now. No one else can enter without command override, and only Kira and I have that authority.”

“Thanks. And thank you for telling me the story. It was really interesting.” Dazai leaned against the wall for a moment as he spoke.

“You’re welcome. It’s odd- I’d pretty much forgotten half of what I told you. It’s been years since I’ve been home, and even longer since I read those journals. I guess… I guess the wine brought it all back. I still can’t believe what I tasted, though.” Chuuya shook his head. “Let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

“I will.” With that, Dazai opened the door, went inside, and collapsed on the bed.

_What the hell have you taken from me?_

_Why does that name hurt so much?_

_Why does a man I’ve never met feel like… home?_


	3. Atsushi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend shows up in a new guise. Dazai gets a few more answers.

Dazai woke the next morning feeling somewhat better than the day before. The headache was gone, at least, which was a blessing- he’d played human, but actually _feeling_ pain was something he’d never really tolerated long.

Or, at least, he didn’t think he had. The scars said otherwise. And he still didn’t know why he had them. 

He laid in bed for a while, trying to make sense of what had happened to him, as well as figure out exactly what powers he had left. Obviously, he could still do small things- changing synthehol into wine was the most basic of chemical changes- but what else?

_Ok. Time to take stock. Creation?_ He gestured at the bed, and a full set of clean clothes and bandages appeared. 

_That’s a check. Teleportation? And how far?_

A flash, and he was… somewhere.

Humans, Romulans, Klingons, Orions… he made a face. Nimbus III. Halfway across the Beta Quadrant, on the Romulan Neutral Zone. Not horrible, but hardly what he was used to. And it was _still_ a joke of a planet.

Another flash, and he was back in the room. And exhausted. Well. At least he knew his limits now. They sucked, but at least he wasn’t stuck on this station. Not physically, at least. But he had a feeling that if he wanted to recover his missing memories, this was the place to do it. He’d already run into clues about his past.

Come to think of it, Chuuya had said something about his grandfather’s journals being almost incomprehensible. What if that was deliberate? And were the originals still around?

He was too drained to make a trip to Earth, and there was no telling how long it would take to regain his powers. But Chuuya might know. And he _had_ said to ask if he needed anything.

“Computer, locate Nakahara Chuuya.”

_“Lieutenant Commander Nakahara is currently in Runabout Dock A.”_

_Hmmm._ “Computer, gather all known data on Chateau Double Noir, France, Earth. Download all historical data pertaining to the twenty-first century Earth calendar to my terminal, including all personal data on the owners.”

_“Data acquired. There are listings for four owners between the years 2000 and 2100 Earth calendar.”_

_That shouldn’t take long to go through._

It didn’t, especially not when one could read at the speed of thought. The first was some Frenchman. The second, though…

_Owner, Dazai Osamu. 2015-2017. Residence: Yokohama, Japan. Ownership transferred to Nakahara Chuuya April 29, 2017._

_Personal data:_

_Birthdate: June 19, 1997 (unconfirmed)_

_Parents: unknown_

_Family: unknown_

_Affiliations: Port Mafia, 2010-2015. Rank: Executive_

_Armed Detective Agency, 2017-2021_

_Date of Death: July 7, 2021.(assumed) Cause unknown._

_Last known location: Yamagata Prefecture, Japan_

Well. Fuck.

One on hand, that confirmed Chuuya’s story, as well as his own suspicions. On the other, it raised more questions. The pictures were definitely him, though.

He couldn’t bring himself to read the next entry yet.

Instead, he went looking for Chuuya.

The security officer was still at the runabout docking area, in the middle of an altercation with a young man who _looked_ human but wasn’t. The black-striped platinum hair and bicolored violet-gold eyes gave that away. 

What the hell was a Therian tiger doing way the hell out here? They were incredibly rare and never left their territories. For him to be here…

“Chuuya, wait. Let me talk to him!” Dazai called out. He strode over to them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, and that electric current ran down his arm again. He ignored it, though, and turned to the other man, speaking in a language that was somewhere between ancient Chinese and Earth’s felines.

/“What brings you here, young one? Why have you left the mountains?”/

The tiger looked startled. /”I seek shelter. My pack has exiled me.”/

That was odd. Exiles rarely happened. /”Why?”/

/”I was accused of seducing our Chiang.”/ The tiger looked down.

Oh.

/”Did you?”/ Dazai asked curiously.

/”No!’/ the tiger exclaimed, his head snapping up in anger. And then, /”But the charge was brought by her mate. And I had no defense. None that I could bring forth without endangering another.”/

Oh. Which meant he was with someone else he wasn’t supposed to be with. /”Who?”/ Dazai asked, gently, and the tiger deflated.

/”Their son.”/

_Oh. That explains pretty much everything._

/”What is your name, young tiger?”/

/”Atsushi. Once of clan Nakajima of the Snow Emperor mountains.”/

_Atsushi. There’s that name again._

Chuuya was watching the two of them, his arms crossed and an impatient look on his face. “What’s going on?”

“So impatient, Chibi,” Dazai replied, and Chuuya’s face flushed. “Our young friend here is a Therian. They’re a race of shapeshifters from the other side of the Gamma quadrant. In Earth lore, he’d be a weretiger. Their animal forms are surprisingly close to Earth’s equivalents.”

“Ah? I’ve never heard of them. Why’s he here?”

“I’m not surprised at that. They almost never leave their system. The race has dwindled over the last few centuries due to inter-clan warfare. There are a few varieties- tigers, wolves, bears, a half-dozen others - but the tigers are the rarest, and the white tigers are almost extinct. That’s probably why they exiled him instead of killing him outright.” Dazai shook his head. “Atsushi here was accused of being in an… inappropriate relationship. He was, just not with the person they thought. In the clans, same-sex relationships, or any relationships incapable of bearing offspring, are forbidden. He accepted the greater charge to spare his partner.”

“Well that’s barbaric. How do you know all this?” Chuuya asked.

“I spent years wandering around the Gamma Quadrant. There are a lot of worlds beyond Dominion space the Federation hasn’t gotten around to finding yet.” He let the barbaric comment pass. It hadn’t been that long ago, relatively speaking, that most of Earth’s cultures had had similar rules. That had taken the rise of technology and a massive global societal shift to change.

“Uh-huh. I suppose he’s looking for asylum, then? We’ll have to bring him to Kira. It’s her decision. What’s his name?”

“Atsushi. Since he was exiled, he can no longer claim his clan name,” Dazai said, and Chuuya nodded.

“Atsushi, huh. Well, Atsushi, come with me. You too, Dazai, since you’re the only one who can talk to him. That might be an issue, come to think of it.” Chuuya said thoughtfully, leading the way out of the bay.

Dazai relayed the conversation, and Atsushi nodded, following him docily. That was the nice thing about Therians. Once you established the hierarchy, they followed it. Usually.

It took a little while to pin Kira down for a conversation. She was currently on Bajor meeting several delegations, and they had to wait until she was clear to speak to them.

“Another stray, huh? Will he be a problem?” she asked, somewhat acerbically. The meeting wasn’t going well.

“I doubt it,” Dazai answered. “Therians are used to responding to a set power structure. They’re also fairly intelligent, so having him learn Standard shouldn’t take long. Meanwhile, I can program his language into the translator. I spent some time learning the various Therian dialects.” A white lie. Like all languages, the knowledge came almost instantaneously. But they didn’t need to know that.

Kira looked at him long and hard, then sighed and nodded. “Fine. Nakahara, give him limited access to the translator. Dazai, you have a week to put everything you know about his language into it. Until that’s done, he’s your responsibility. Get him settled, show him how the tech works, that sort of thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” The response was simultaneous, and Dazai grinned, while Chuuya allowed himself a small smile. It actually drew a snort from Kira, and she smiled.

“Get to work, you two. I have a meeting to get back to.”

Getting Atsushi settled didn’t take long. He ended up in the room next to Dazai’s, and while his people were rather backwards when it came to social issues, they weren’t completely technologically illiterate. 

It _did_ take Dazai a minute to convince Atsushi he didn’t have to pay for the food and clothes, though. The concept of being simply _given_ food and shelter was alien to his people once they’d reached a certain age. Eventually, Dazai convinced him that once he was settled and was able to communicate, he could find employment of some sort or another. He’d hardly be the first civilian to take up residence here.

Maybe Chuuya could give him a job working security. Atsushi’s people were warriors, and from something the tiger had said, he was one of the best. Losing him must have been incredibly painful for his clan. Dazai wondered idly if the Chiang’s mate had felt threatened, and that was why he’d brought the charges. It’d hardly be the first time that sort of thing had happened.

The Q shook his head and went back to inputting Atsushi’s language into the database. He could probably have done it with a handwave, but he was still playing human, and having the data suddenly appear would’ve been suspicious. And he’d never been one to deliberately attract attention anyway, not if he could help it. Studying people and manipulating from the shadows had always been his stock in trade. It was so much more satisfying in the long run. There were one or two of the Continuum who preferred getting directly involved; most ignored mortal affairs entirely, though. He never had understood that frame of mind. What was the point of having the power to alter reality itself if you didn’t _use_ it for something?

Dazai thought over the past day or so as he worked. There were too many puzzles here, and they all seemed to be connected. The scars, how he’d ended up on DS9, and why he kept running into people with names from a past he couldn’t remember. Now that he thought back, the doctor had seemed familiar as well. That made three in less than two days. Three people with Japanese names on a Starfleet station nowhere near Earth, one of whom wasn’t even _human_ , And one of them was a direct descendent, hell a practical reincarnation, of a man he’d apparently been _in love with._ Which, in and of itself, was insane. Q didn’t love. 

Or, more to the point, they didn’t fall in love with mortals. It never ended well, and forever was a _long_ time to mourn.

Fuck. He needed to remember. And to find out why it had taken him ten years to come back. Even if he’d been in hiding, it should only have taken a year or so to throw whatever it was he was running from off his trail.

Some of what he’d discovered just led to more questions. For one, why had he shown up as a teenager? If the dates on the file were correct, he’d taken the form of a 14 year old, and been 24 or so when he disappeared. 

He actually had a theory on that one. From the pictures, he’d worn a lot more bandages as a child. It’s possible he’d been severely injured when he’d arrived, and taking a younger, smaller body took less energy. Come to think of it, at least some of the scars might be from that. If he’d been that injured, he wouldn’t have been able to heal properly. 

The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he needed those journals. Coded or not, they might be his best chance of finding out what had actually gone on back then.

Looking down at the screen, he realized he’d gotten most of Atsushi’s dialect into the computer while he was thinking. It wasn’t really that hard- like most insular tribal species, their vocabulary was pretty limited. He could do the rest of them tomorrow. At least Atsushi should be able to communicate with people now, at least for the most part.

He was pulled from his thoughts as his stomach growled. Being hungry was an odd sensation, one he normally didn’t feel. Then again, that extended to pain, heat, cold, physical desire… all those inconvenient things mortals had to deal with on a regular basis. Sometimes he wondered how they stood it. (Okay, well, the last wasn’t _so_ bad, and they did have their own version of it. It just wasn’t as… all-encompassing. Usually.)

His stomach growled again, and he realized it was well after noon, and he hadn’t eaten anything yet. He ordered ramen and coffee from the replicator, and ate somewhat absentmindedly as he thought.

Okay. Atsushi was handled for the moment. Tomorrow he’d take the tiger out and show him the station, get him used to being around people other than his clan. Dazai himself was stuck on the station until his energy regenerated. It was annoying, but there wasn’t much he could do about that yet.

Now, he had an entire evening to fill. 

_Wonder if Chuuya’s free for dinner. Can’t hurt to ask._

He pressed the combadge. “Chuuya.”

An answer came a moment later. _“Dazai? What’s up?”_

“Atsushi’s dialect is in the translator. Also, I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight.”

Chuuya sounded impressed. _“That was fast. Unfortunately, I’m tied up for the next few days. We have a couple of major delegations coming in for the annual Cardassian peace conference. It’s going to be a bit of a madhouse.”_

“Oh?” That sounded like it was going to be interesting.

_“Yeah. Federation and Klingons and everyone in between. The actual talks are on Cardassia this year, but they pause here to regroup before heading that way. It’s going to be interesting. The Federation is sending the Enterprise. I’ve always wanted to meet Captain Picard.”_

PIcard. That name sounded familiar… Right. He was the one Dazai’s cousin was so taken with. Q had spent quite a bit of time on board the Enterprise, and was constantly waxing poetic about the human. “I’ve heard of him. You two have something in common, don’t you?”

" _How do you- never mind. Yeah. Our families knew each other, but I never got a chance to meet Jean-Luc.”_

_"_ Well, have fun with that. Rain check?”

_“Yeah. I should be free in three or four days. Everyone should be gone by then.”_

“Alright. See you then.”

Well, _that_ was an interesting development. Dazai was torn between wanting to meet the man Q was so invested in, and wanting to stay far away from him. If memory served, Picard was something of an amateur historian, and his family had been in Bordeaux as long as Chuuya’s was, if not longer. It’s entirely possible he’d recognize Dazai’s name.

Of course, that could be an opening. And if there was _anyone_ in Starfleet he could open up to about being a Q, it was probably Picard.

First things first. “Computer, when are the Federation and Klingon delegations scheduled to arrive?”

_“The USS Enterprise is due to arrive at 2030. The IKS Valkyrie is due to arrive at 0530 tomorrow.”_

Right. Chuuya was going to be up all night, then.

He should probably warn Atsushi about the Klingons. Not that he thought the young warrior would have an issue if it came to combat, but Klingons were touchy at best.

He pushed off the bed and went next door to speak to the tiger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a reason for that specific ship name. I'll explain it next chapter.
> 
> 'Chiang' refers to the matriarch of the tiger clans. And yes, I sort of stole that from Laurell K. Hamilton.


	4. Arahabaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dazai regains a few memories, and another familiar face appears.

As it happened, Dazai ran into the Klingons first.

Literally.

It was admittedly early, and Dazai wasn’t really sure what his plan for the day was. Being nearly bowled over by a burly Klingon wasn’t part of it, though. That he was fairly certain of. 

“Watch where you’re going,” he snarled, instantly in a bad mood. Klingons had never been his favorite species. 

“Why don’t you, Terran?” the Klingon snarled back, before being shoved aside by another in a slightly more elaborate uniform. _Commander_ , Dazai thought, reading the rank insignia. _Probably the one in charge here._

“Idiot,” the commander said. “We just docked half an hour ago. Do you really want to end up in the brig already?” The first Klingon growled at him but backed down, and the commander turned to Dazai. 

“Ignore him. My name is Commander Karm. I am the head of the Klingon delegation to Cardassia.” _Ah. I was right. And it seems this one has a level head, at least. Small favors._

“Dazai Osamu. Wandering scholar.” Well, the wandering part was true enough. The last decade was probably the longest he’d spent in one place in several millennia.

What could he say? He was a busy Q.

“Ah? What kind of scholar?” They were moving now, the Klingons obviously headed for their embassy, which wasn’t far from where they were. 

“Warfare, mostly. Strategy and tactics, history, that sort of thing. It’s something of a hobby of mine.” The phrase _demon prodigy_ runs through his mind, but he can’t quite grasp the meaning behind it before it slips away again.

“And what have you learned from your studies, Dazai Osamu?” the Klingon asked. It was a not-unexpected question. He may be a diplomat now, but Karm still had the look of a warrior. 

It was also a good one. He’d studied thousands of societies, but it almost always came down to one thing. “In the end, the only people that really win in a war are the arms dealers and the battlefield scavengers. For the rest, the only time it doesn’t end where it should have started, in diplomacy, is when there’s no one left to talk to.”

The Klingon looked at him, grinning slightly. “Those are wise words for someone so young.”

Dazai gave him an enigmatic, slightly sad smile. “Karm, my friend, I am nowhere near as young as I look.” He gave a Klingon salute. “Qapla’!”

“Qapla’!” Karm returned the salute, and led his delegation into the embassy.

Dazai shook his head. What he’d said was mostly true. He’d watched a million wars on thousands of planets, and very, very few of them ended well without both sides paying a horrible toll. Even the Q had had a private little war, one that had only ended when it did because his cousin had come up with a rather… unique solution.

He shook off the thoughts and the encounter as he walked. They weren’t really relevant to his situation at the moment, nor had that been the delegation he was looking for. The one he wanted… “Computer, locate Captain Picard.”

_“Captain Picard is in Ops.”_

_Probably talking to Kira. Wonder if they’ll mind if I join them?_

As luck would have it, he was intercepted by a _very_ tired Chuuya before he could do just that. “I wouldn’t, Dazai,” the security chief said, as they met just outside the entrance to Kira’s office. “Federation business. You know how that goes.”

“Yeah, I do. Are you going to get some sleep? You look like you’re about ready to pass out.” Dazai wasn’t really exaggerating. The redhead looked asleep on his feet.

Chuuya nodded. “I have a meeting at 1600, but yes. I was just headed back to my room. Walk with me?”

“Of course.”

Chuuya’s room wasn’t far, which made sense- as head of security, he needed to be close to the center. And for a room on a space station, it was actually pretty decent. The walls were decorated with paintings, mostly French and Japanese, and the bookshelves in one corner are overflowing with poetry books and classic novels. Dazai looked over some of the titles, a curious feeling of nostalgia falling over him.

_...a low, familiar voice floats across the room, melodic as its owner recites a favorite verse in French. Dazai turns to face the speaker, smiling as brilliant blue eyes meet his gaze, and a beautiful face, framed by fiery red hair, lights up in a smile._

_“Hello, mon petit mafia.” Dazai bends in for a kiss, and warm lips meet his._

_“Good evening, love,” the redhead replies. “Missed you today.”_

_Chuuya._

“Dazai?” The voice comes from behind him, so similar to the one from his memory. The inflection is French, not Japanese, and it’s not as rough, but for a moment it’s so fucking painful to hear. “All you alright?”

“Yeah.” It’s just then Dazai realized there were tears streaking down his cheeks, and he wiped them away. “Your books- some of them are familiar. They brought up a few memories, that’s all.”

“Oh. Good ones?” There was concern in that voice now, but Dazai didn’t turn around. There had been the sounds of drawers opening and closing just a second ago, and the brunette was fairly certain Chuuya was changing behind him. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if he was right and saw the redhead half-naked just then.

“Mostly. Someone I loved a long time ago was a fan of French poetry. I think he had some of these titles.” As he continued to scan the bookshelf, one volume in particular jumped out at him, and he pulled it out, opening the cover…

And his heart stopped entirely as he read the words on the page.

_To Chuuya,_

_Happy birthday, mon petit mafia. Souviens-toi que je t’aimerai toujours._

_Osamu_

“Where did you get these?” Dazai asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Chuuya came and stood beside him. “Oh, most of them are replicas of Grandfather’s books. You can’t find a lot of them in print anymore, and the originals are too fragile to travel. I don’t know, I suppose I could just read the digital versions, but there’s something about a physical book that just calls to me, you know?”

“Yeah. I know exactly what you mean, Chibi.” Dazai closed the book, and started to put it back, then paused. “Can I borrow this for a day or two?”

“I suppose. And I never said you could call me Chibi. Although,” Chuuya said, with a slight blush, “somehow I don’t mind it as much from you. Just not in front of Kira, okay?”

Dazai smiled. “Deal. I should probably let you get some sleep.”

“Probably.” Chuuya yawned. “Oh, by the way, I’m having dinner with Picard tomorrow, and he said I could bring a plus one. Wanna come?”

“Chibi, I’d love to. Now go sleep.”

“Okay.” Chuuya turned, and there was a hesitation there, almost like he wanted to… kiss Dazai, or something, before he climbed into the bed. “Night.”

“Bonne nuit, Chuuya.” Dazai smiled again at the redhead, then left the room, book in hand.

The brunette teleported back to his room, reluctant to meet anyone else just yet. He collapsed on the bed, kicking his shoes off, then yanked one of the pillows under his head and opened the book of poetry again.

He was ready for the inscription this time, and it only burned a little as he flipped past it. The book was a collection, and he chuckled softly as he read the notes Chuuya (his Chuuya) had left in the margins- critiques, circled passages, one or two x’d out completely, the ink thick and black, as if the very existence of those poems had affronted him.

And then, on the back page, written in elegant kanji...

_For the Tainted Sorrow_

_Nakahara Chuuya_

_By your sorrow, you have already tainted_

_This morning’s freshly fallen snow._

_By your sorrow, you have already tainted_

_Even a strong wind that blows._

_Already tainted by sorrow_

_Is a fox’s splendid fur used for a coat._

_Already tainted by sorrow_

_Is the snowflake that shrinks before it falls._

_By becoming tainted by sorrow_

_You never hope nor wish for anything_

_By becoming tainted by sorrow_

_You languidly linger on dreams of death-_

_For the tainted sorrow is a painful,_

_Intimidating foreboding._

_For the tainted sorrow, is upon me_

_It is dusk, and there is nothing I can do......_

  
  


_Dazai, it’s been five years. Five years of missing you, five years of rage at you leaving me_ again _, five years of hoping you’ll come back to me._

_I’ve decided to stop waiting. Your letter told me to move on, to find someone to stay with. I think I’ve found her, Osamu. I asked her to marry me today. I miss you. I’ll always miss you, and I’ll never stop loving you. But I think I love her too. Maybe, just maybe, I can be as happy with her as I was with you._

The last part wasn’t Japanese, or French, or any language that had ever really existed on Earth. But, Dazai knew it. He knew it like he knew his own name, which made sense. After all, he’d come up with both of them.

Chuuya had said his grandfather’s journals were ‘word salad poetry’. That’s exactly what they’d look like to anyone else. And no encryption program on Earth could break that cypher. But he could.

He realized he was crying again, and closed the book, putting it on the table next to the bed. He’d found pieces of his past, edges to the puzzle that was his missing memories, and as he lay there he started turning them around in his mind, putting them together.

_Port Mafia. Armed Detective Agency. Chuuya. Kouyou. Kyouka. Yosano. Atsushi. Ryuunosuke. Yokohama. Soukoku. Scars._

_Mon petit mafia. Chibi. Demon Prodigy._

_Maniacal laughter. A god incarnate. For the Tainted Sorrow._

Another word came to him. _Corruption._

_Screams of rage and maniacal cackling, alternating out of the same slender throat, red and black markings like demonic tattoos on pale skin, azure orbs replaced by blinding white. A god of chaos and destruction released from its cage by a single phrase, uttered by the man he loved. They called it Corruption, but it was Arahabaki, and only Dazai’s touch could put the god back to sleep before it killed its vessel._

_The first time Chuuya had used Corruption, Dazai had been stunned. It had been millennia since he’d seen that kind of power in a mortal, and it had almost taken him too long to realize Chuuya couldn’t control it. He never really had learned how, not on his own. That had taken a little intervention on Dazai’s part._

The Q’s eyes snapped open as his door chime sounded. He scrubbed his face, trying to erase the tear tracks, and took a deep breath. “Come!” he said, and the door slid open.

Chuuya stood there, still looking exhausted. “Chibi? What’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep. Happens sometimes if I’ve been up too long. Can I crash here for a bit?” Dazai nodded, waving him in, and the redhead walked over to the bed, collapsing next to Dazai.

“Thanks,” he said tiredly. “It’s easier to drown him out if there’s someone else around.” With that, Chuuya rolled over, pressing himself up against Dazai. He almost had to- the beds in the quest quarters weren’t really big enough for two.

Instinctively, Dazai reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair from Chuuya’s cheek. The redhead smiled. “Huh. He shut up. Good.”

“He who?” Chuuya heard voices? Could it-

“Arahabaki. Family thing. ‘Splain later,” Chuuya slurred, and then he was asleep.

_Arahabaki. So the deal was upheld._

Dazai stayed in the bed pretty much the entire time Chuuya was asleep. It was just easier that way- the other stirred and started thrashing every time he let go, once to the point where a familiar red aura started forming around Chuuya’s body. It vanished at his touch, and the redhead settled instantly.

Since he couldn’t do much else, he thought. The PADD that was so generously supplied with the room was luckily in easy reach, and he used it to look up some of the bits he was missing. A lot of the information was unavailable- not surprising, really, given Earth’s history over the decades after he left, but he was able to find a few things, including some of the history of both the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency. Apparently, he had been a prominent member of both organizations, but there was a two-year gap in between leaving one and showing up at the other. And Chuuya _had_ left the Mafia at 24. Some of the other names he remembered were there too- Ozaki Kouyou, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakajima Atsushi (somehow he’d managed to have the same family and clan name), Yosano Akiko, Izumi Kyouka… and so many others. Idly, he wondered just how many more of his old friends had been reincarnated, and just where they were. 

And almost all of them had had powers. Abilities, they called them. Atsushi was a tiger, Yosano was a healer, and Chuuya…

There was a video attached to Chuuya’s file, and he opened it, lowering the volume as he did so. The first words that came from it chilled him to the bone.

_“Oh grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again.”_

_It was real. That memory was real. And it was just as awe-inspiring as he remembered._

Dazai woke Chuuya up at 1500. The redhead blinked awake, surprised that Dazai was still in the bed. “Why are we cuddling?” he asked, his voice grumpy even as he blushed.

“You were having nightmares. It was the best way to calm you down. I didn’t mind,” Dazai explained. “Besides, I didn’t really have any plans for today. It was kind of pleasant, actually.”

Chuuya blushed harder. “Th-thanks,” he said, now thoroughly embarrassed. “It’s been a while since they’ve been that bad. I don’t even know what set them off this time.”

“I think I do,” Dazai muttered. He wasn’t sure he was ready to admit anything yet, but it was quickly getting to a point where he was going to have to give up _something_ , and Chuuya was the key to his past.

Chuuya had _always_ been his key.

_Fuck._

The redhead was looking at him curiously, and he sighed. “Before you passed out, you said something about Arahabaki, about it being a family thing. We don’t really have time to discuss it now, but… if you have time tonight, we need to talk. The sooner the better, but it’s going to take a bit.”

Chuuya looked at him askance for a moment, then nodded. “There’s a dinner for the delegates at 1830. I’ll be handling security for it, but I should be mostly free once it’s over. It’ll probably be around 2100 or so. Will that work?”

Dazai nodded. “That’s fine. You should probably go get ready for work now.”

“Yeah. I’ll contact you as soon as I’m free.” Chuuya smiled at him as he headed for the door. “Thanks. For letting me sleep here. I know we don’t really know each other, but… it helped.”

“Anytime, Chibi,” Dazai said quietly. Then he shooed Chuuya out the door, and went back to his research.

He ended up spending a few hours with Atsushi that evening. The tiger was very much out of his depth, and sought him out for advice. It was kind of nice, actually, and felt strangely familiar. 

They eventually ended up at Quark’s. Dazai rented a few hours in one of the holosuites, and, with a quick wave, programmed it to replicate Theria’s Snow Emperor mountains. As the scene appeared, he gave the tiger a brief rundown of commands for the holodeck, making sure the other had them down before continuing. “/It’s not really home,/” he said apologetically, “/but it’s better than nothing./”

“/No, no, it’s okay./” Atsushi’s eyes were wide with delight. “/I haven’t seen the mountains in nearly two months. It took me a while to secure passage here. Is there prey?/”

Dazai grinned and waved his hand again. “/There is now. You said you were one of the best. Did you have a warrior name?/”

The Therian nodded, and took off his shoes, putting them to one side. “/They called me Beast Beneath the Moonlight. My greatest victory was a stealth attack- I and one other decimated an entire enemy camp the night of the full moon. It was also the night that led to my shame, for it was the night I first bedded the Chiang’s son./”

“/I see./” Dazai cocked his head, debating his next question. “/Did he return your feelings?/”

“/I thought so, but.../” Atsushi sighed. “/I have had much time to think. His parents were strict, more so than most. I wonder now if I was just a way to strike back at them. It really doesn’t matter now. My home is far from here, and the trail I left is one he cannot follow. I will never see him again. And I think… I think that if I truly loved him, that would hurt more./”

“/If not pain, what is it that you feel?/” Dazai asked curiously. 

“/Free. I feel _free._ /” Atsushi flashed him a grin, then shifted. As a tiger he was magnificent, snow white with black stripes and golden eyes, and he roared, then disappeared over the top of the hill.

Dazai walked to the crest, watching the tiger run into the distance, and thought about what he’d said. Then he smiled softly and left the holodeck. On the way out of the bar, he stopped by the bar, and arranged for Atsushi to have the suite for as long as he wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karm and the IKS Valkyrie exist IRL. Karm is my uncle's longtime Klingon cosplay persona (and by longtime I mean /decades/), and the Valkyrie was the ship he commanded for a while. I had his permission to use the character, and he read and /loved/ the scene. So :)  
> Also, this was one of a half-dozen translations I found of For the Tainted Sorrow. I don't remember who the translator was, but this was my favorite version of the lot.


	5. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dazai's search for answers leads to an unexpected place. But then again, that's usually the case with Chuuya.

True to his word, Chuuya contacted Dazai shortly after 2100. 

_ “Dazai.” _

“Hey, Chibi. All done?”

_ “Yep. Just escorted the last of them back to their quarters. Meet me in my room in ten?” _

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be there.”

He arrived at Chuuya’s door exactly ten minutes later, the book of poetry in hand.  _ “Come!”  _ sounded from inside as the door chime sounded.

Dazai took a deep breath.  _ Here we go. _

He walked inside, and stopped at the sight of the man in front of him. “Chibi looks good in a dress uniform,” he said appreciatively. 

Chuuya turned from where he was pulling clothes out of a closet, blushing slightly. “Thanks. They’re not terribly comfortable, though. Mind if I change quick?”

Dazai shook his head, and Chuuya smiled as he dumped the clothes on the bed and unsealed his uniform coat. The redhead tossed the offending piece of clothing aside and stripped off the undershirt, leaving his upper body bare. Belatedly, Dazai realized several things.

First, Chuuya had  _ no _ qualms whatsoever about changing in front of him. This was not entirely unexpected- this era in human history had thrown out a lot of the taboos and emphasis on body modesty that had plagued previous generations, at least in private. And there was already a connection between the two of them, although he seriously doubted Chuuya knew where his end of it was truly coming from. 

Even knowing that, though, it didn’t make the second epiphany any less difficult, which was that this Chuuya really was the spitting image of his ancestor. And seeing that much of his skin… his fingers  _ ached  _ to reach out and caress it. He almost did; his hand rose, almost on its own, and with an effort that was far from pretty he clenched his fingers and dropped it back to his side. Instead, he closed his eyes, and more images flashed in front of them, bits of memories of a thousand nights spent in Chuuya’s arms…

“Dazai?” The voice was concerned, and just different enough that it brought him out of his reverie. “Everything okay?”

Dazai opened his eyes. Chuuya stood in front of him, now wearing sweatpants and a loose tshirt, and concern shone in his eyes. “Yeah. Sorry, I just zoned out for a minute.”

“No shit. You looked half a quadrant away,” the redhead said, stepping back slightly. “Come sit down. You hungry? I’m going to make myself something- watching other people eat always leaves me starving, for some reason.”

_ Half a quadrant and 300 years, _ Dazai thought, and nodded. “I had dinner with Atsushi earlier, but I could go for a snack.”

“The weretiger? How’s he doing? It has to be strange for him, stuck in a place like this.” Chuuya busied himself at the replicator, pulling up menus and summoning items. It seemed like a lot, until Dazai realized it was all  _ ingredients _ . It was then that he noticed the tiny kitchenette off to one side. 

“He’s alright. I took him to the holodeck and programmed it for his home province. Last time I saw him he was happily running after a herd of chamois. And don’t worry, I taught him the commands before I let him run off.” Dazai smiled at the memory. “Chuuya is cooking? I didn’t even know these rooms came with kitchens.”

“They don’t, normally. My mom taught me to cook ages ago, and it’s something of a hobby, so when I got here I asked for the kitchen. Besides, it tastes better than replicated food. Kira didn’t approve it at first. She changed her mind when I made her the Bajoran version of a birthday cake from scratch.” Chuuya busied himself with a small rice cooker as he spoke, filling it with a few practiced movements and hitting the button, then turning to the rest. “I’m just making crab onigiri, so it shouldn’t take long.”

Dazai was a little more prepared for the memories this time, and let them run through his consciousness, blinking only slightly as his eyes burned with unshed tears. Dammit, he had to get a handle on this. He was never going to get through the night if everything Chuuya said or did threw him into a flashback. Forcibly, he quarantined that part of his mind- he could still see the memories, but they wouldn’t affect him unless he let them. It was the only way he was going to stay sane and get through this.

There wasn’t really a table or chairs, so he sat on the edge of the bed as Chuuya cooked, fingering the poetry book. “Just out of curiosity, do any of your grandfather’s other books have his poetry written in them? Or any other notes of his?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, a few of them. The second and third shelves are mostly his books. Most of it’s that word salad of his, but there are a few actual poems in there. Some of them are actually pretty decent- I don’t know why he didn’t publish a book of his own.” Most of the prep work done, Chuuya washed his hands, then went over to the bookshelf and pulled out a half-dozen volumes. 

“These are the ones I remember. There are more back home, and the journals, of course. Why do you ask?”

Dazai took the books from Chuuya, wincing slightly as he read the titles. Every one of them was familiar. “When I woke up here, I told Yosano and Kira that I couldn’t remember the last few weeks. That much is true, but… it’s not just a few weeks. I can’t remember the last ten years, and your grandfather’s the key to getting those memories back. I know, it sounds crazy,” he said. Chuuya’s eyes were a mix of several emotions, but disbelief and anger were among them, and he held up a hand. “I’ll explain everything. Just… let’s eat first. Let’s eat, and I’ll explain, and if you don’t believe me after, I’ll leave you alone and not bother you again. Okay?”

The redhead looked at him a moment longer, then nodded as the cooker beeped. “Alright. This won’t take long,” he said, then turned back to the kitchen.

Dazai sighed, and flipped open the first book. Like the other, there were notes all through it, and one of Chuuya’s poems in the back. That was the case for all of them, and three held messages in their code. They were all from a much younger Chuuya, and his heart clenched as he read them.

A plate appeared in front of him, and he set the books aside and took it. “There’s more if you’re still hungry after,” Chuuya said, then sat next to him. “Sorry for the lack of a table. I usually don’t have visitors for meals. Or much of anything else, really.”

“Oh? Chibi has no one special, huh?” Dazai asked, and the redhead shook his head. 

“There was, briefly, back home, but we broke up when I told him I was going into Starfleet. He was dead set on running his family’s estates, and neither of us was really happy with the idea of trying to keep up a relationship long distance. I don’t know. I mean, I liked him, but it was never love. At least not on my part. It may have been different on his, but… I think I knew from the beginning that it wasn’t going to work between us. I just couldn’t stay there.”

_ Chibi, I know exactly how that feels. _

They ate in silence for a while. Dazai took the time to try to figure out exactly  _ where _ to begin his explanation. Finally, he sighed and put his plate aside. “I suppose,” he said slowly, “I should start by telling you that what I’ve said so far is mostly true. I am a wanderer, I do study civilizations. And I have spent time on Earth. The last decade or so, in fact. Dazai Osamu is one of the aliases I use when I… interact with people. My people don’t really use individual names.”

“Your...people? Who are your people? And if you’re not from Earth, then where are you from?” Chuuya was confused and slightly hurt. He’d trusted Dazai, but…

Dazai looked at the floor. “The answer to both is pretty much the same thing. Have you ever heard of the Q continuum?”

“The Q… yeah. Doesn’t one of you keep harassing Captain Picard? And if you’re a Q, how the fuck were you hurt? Aren’t you guys immortal?”

“ That one’s… my cousin, I guess you’d call him. Our family structures are a little convoluted. And immortal isn’t necessarily invulnerable. There are other beings out there that can hurt us. The last thing I remember before ending up on Earth was running from one of them. It injured me, fairly badly. So I used most of my remaining power and hid by taking a human form and transporting myself to a random point in the past. And ended up in 21st century Japan.” Dazai picked up the book he’d borrowed. “I remember being there. But almost everything that happened to me, everything after I made the decision to flee, is gone.”

“So how…” Chuuya whispered, the pain and betrayal in his eyes a spike through Dazai’s soul. “What does my grandfather have to do with this?”

“The instant I met you, you felt familiar. Like I should know you, almost better than I know myself. You really are his reincarnation in almost every detail.” Dazai flipped open the book to the inscription. “Remember the boyfriend you mentioned? The one that disappeared into thin air?”

“Yeah. Wait- that was you?? How is that even possible? Why would you end up here, of all places? And injured?” Chuuya rose and started pacing the cabin, and that too was familiar. 

“I don’t know how I got here. And yes, it was me. I’ve started remembering pieces of that life. Not a lot- flashes, a few names, but…enough to know I was there. And I can prove it. In several ways, actually.” He looked up to meet Chuuya’s incredulous stare. “Arahabaki. I see our deal’s still in place. Tell him. I know you recognized me. It’s why you’ve been so noisy today.”

Chuuya’s eyes glazed over slightly, and one hand went to his head as he swayed. A moment later he shook himself and looked at Dazai with something very much like awe. “I believe you,” he said quietly. “He’s very happy to see you again. Says it’s been too long since he got to come out to play. What does that even mean?”

“Corruption. It’s one of the things I remembered. Sort of. Arahabaki is a god trapped in a human body. We bonded a bit over that. At some point, I struck a deal with him. He’s incredibly powerful, but had no restraint, and would’ve killed Chuuya dozens of times over if I hadn’t stopped him. The deal was that as long as Chuuya had descendants, he would always have a vessel. In return, he’d refrain from using the full extent of his power and killing said vessel. Apparently he’s kept up his end of the deal. I’m actually kind of surprised he’s been good this long.”

“So you’re the reason. Was keeping Grandfather’s ability part of that pact too? It’s a bitch and a half to keep secret, just so you know. Ability users pretty much died out after World War III. Ours is one of the few bloodlines left that kept theirs.” Chuuya went back to the replicator as he spoke, summoning a bottle of wine and two glasses. He brought them over to the bed and set the glasses on the nightstand. “It’s not much, but it’s alcohol.”

“It can be,” Dazai said. “The wine, the first time we met. That was me. You mentioned wanting a decent red and I… remembered the taste. I didn’t know who you were then, didn’t know our connection. I just changed it on a whim. It surprised the hell out of me when you reacted the way you did.” 

He shook his head. “As far as the power goes, not exactly.  _ For the Tainted Sorrow _ and Arahabaki have always been linked. Chuuya was unique in a lot of ways. I wish I remembered more. It’s coming back, slowly, but…”

Chuuya rejoined him on the bed. “Okay. So you’re this cosmically powered being who somehow ended up dating my ultimate grandfather and engineering the family curse. Can’t you just fix yourself, or go back and pick up where you left off?”

“Not yet. Whatever brought me here and took my memory drained a lot of my power as well. I can do little things, and limited teleportation, but time travel’s still out. Besides, if I go back, it’ll completely disrupt the timeline, and you probably won’t exist. It’s one of the reasons most of us try to refrain from meddling in mortal affairs.” Dazai sighed. “Everything I’ve remembered has been because of you. That, and the notes Chuuya left. They’re not just a ‘word salad’, as you called it. It’s a cypher based on a hundred different languages, some of which you haven’t discovered yet. I taught it to him early in our partnership. He’s been leaving me messages since the beginning.”

Dazai opened one of the earlier messages and started translating. Reading the words had hurt. Saying them out loud was almost excruciating.

_ Mackerel, _

_ I don’t think your snooping extends to my poetry books, so maybe it’s safe to leave this here. I hope so- I need to get this out on paper, and you look almost everywhere else, so here goes. _

_ I love you. _

_ God, I hope you don’t find this right away. We’ve only known each other a couple of months. You’re infuriating and arrogant and a jackass, but there’s more to you than anyone’s ever seen. I hear you at night. You talk in your sleep, you know. I don’t always understand what you say- sometimes the words just don’t make sense, sometimes you’re talking about things I’ve never heard of, but you always sound so… lost. So broken and lonely and alone, and it hurts to hear it. I want to be there for you, Dazai. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re alone, like you’re missing something so important that it’s a constant ache where your heart’s supposed to be.  _

_ I don’t know if I can fill that hole. All I know is from the day I met you, the ache in my own chest has eased so much. I found something in you I didn’t know I was missing, and I can only hope that someday, I can make you feel the same way. _

_ Je t’aime, Osamu. _

_ Chuuya _

He almost didn’t make it through the last part. Chuuya’s next words didn’t make it any easier, either.

“I know how he felt. The loneliness, I mean. It’s one of the reasons I joined Starfleet and left Earth. There wasn’t anything at home that made it any better, so I thought that maybe out here…”

“You’d find what your heart was looking for. Have you?” Dazai asked softly.

Chuuya looked at him; those brilliant blue eyes, so expressive, were soft and dark, a match to the hesitancy on his face. “I… maybe. I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on whether you’re planning on sticking around this time or not.”

_ Well. Fuck. _

“Chuuya, you don’t know what you’re asking,” Dazai whispered. “Mortals and immortals…”

“I’m not saying you have to decide right now,” Chuuya said, interrupting him. “Or even anytime soon. It’s obvious you still love my grandfather. And I know this isn’t going to be easy for either of us. I’m just saying… whatever this connection between us is, I’d like to see where it goes. Even if it ends up not working out, I’d rather take the chance and regret it, than not take it and spend my entire life wondering.”

“Chibi, I…” Dazai looked long and hard into those eyes, so familiar and yet not, then sighed. “I can’t promise anything. I still don’t know how I ended up here- I may not be  _ able _ to stay if it’s something that’ll endanger the rest of you. But I won’t say no, not yet. Okay?”

“Okay.” Chuuya looked down to where his hand rested on the sheets. Dazai’s was so close… “Before we go much further, can I ask for one thing?”

“You can ask,” Dazai replied, his gaze following Chuuya’s. “You don’t have to, though.”

The brunette reached out and took the hand that lay on the sheets, and that electricity crackled between them again, but this time neither pulled away. Chuuya closed his eyes and let out a breath. “That’s what I thought. You can cancel out Abilities. That’s what you meant earlier, about stopping Corruption. That’s why Arahabaki shut up as soon as you touched me earlier. Can all of the Q do that, or is it just you?”

“I don’t know. I’m the only one that’s come in contact with them.” Another phrase flashed through his mind, and he grasped it, teasing out its meaning. “I called it  _ No Longer Human. _ Ironic, since I was never truly human to begin with. But basically, yes. There were others with the ability to nullify powers, but mine was unique. None of them could have handled Baki once he got going.”

He moved to pull his hand away, but Chuuya gripped it tight. “Not yet, please. I… His voice has been in my head ever since I can remember. I don’t know what it's like to have  _ quiet _ , to be alone in my thoughts. Can I… can I just have that for a few minutes? Please?”

Dazai nodded, then put the book down and moved back on the bed a little. “Come here, Chibi,” he said, pulling the smaller man into his lap. Once he was settled, Dazai’s free hand slipped under Chuuya’s shirt and settled against his skin. “It works as long as my skin is touching yours, or your hair. This okay?”

Chuuya nodded and curled into his chest, and Dazai realized with something of a start that the redhead was  _ crying.  _ “Chibi?”

“I never knew,” Chuuya whispered. 

“Knew what?”

“What it’s like to feel normal,” he said, and Dazai’s heart broke just a little.  _ You really are so much like him. _

“I never really thought about the mechanics of it,” Dazai admitted. “I just wanted to keep Chuuya safe. And I knew that even if Baki limited himself, you’d all be incredibly strong. Chuuya was one of the most powerful people I’ve ever met. Corruption was like nothing I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a lot. In that state, he was almost invincible. At least, until it started tearing him apart from the inside.”

“So that’s why you did it? To keep the power from killing him after you were gone?”

Dazai nodded. “He should have died the first time he unleashed Corruption. Neither of us knew what was going to happen; all we knew was the trigger phrase. That first time, we were on a mission together, one that went bad very quickly. We were cornered, out of options, and he… it was the first time he kissed me. I think it was supposed to be a goodbye, just in case it went badly. And it almost did. It almost took me too long to realize he couldn’t stop it on his own. That was also when we discovered Arahabaki would also heal him, eventually. It took a few days though, especially if it went too long.”

Chuuya pulled away enough to look up at him. “What does it  _ do? _ What’s it look like? How does it feel? I know some of the things I can do with  _ Sorrow, _ but no one’s actually used Corruption, at least not that I’ve ever heard. We haven’t had to. I don’t think any of us even knew it was a thing. There have only been ten or twelve of us anyway- it’s a ‘firstborn of the firstborn’ thing. The rest of the family doesn’t know anything about Arahabaki, or our Ability. The power transfers as soon as we’re old enough to start training it, about five or so. I was 3 and a half. Apparently I was precocious.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. And it would probably be easier to show you. Words don’t do it justice. As for how it feels… for that, I think you have to experience it. Chuuya was never really able to describe it very well. We’re going to have to go somewhere deserted for that though. Can’t risk you destroying the station accidentally.” Dazai’s hand rose of its own accord to wipe the tear tracks from Chuuya’s cheeks.

He pulled the hand away once he realized what he was doing, but Chuuya clasped it and raised it back to his cheek, leaning into the touch. “It’s alright. Your hands feel nice. This all feels nice. Usually I don’t like being cuddled like this, it makes me feel small, but… I don’t feel small with you.”

“How do you feel?” Dazai asked, his voice low and just a bit thick. He wanted so desperately to kiss the man in his lap, but he didn’t want to push it, wasn’t sure if the attraction was for him, or a holdover from  _ his _ Chuuya, and it wouldn’t be fair if it was the latter. Not that he usually cared much about fair, but Chuuya always had been the exception to his rules.

“I feel… safe. Warm. Like I belong here. It’s amazing, really. I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere.” Chuuya’s voice was soft and full of wonder and longing and something that just might be approaching love, and god, that hurt.

“Chibi, I… this is…”

“I know. Maybe it’s not fair, maybe you can’t stay, maybe it’ll break both our hearts, but… I want this. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you in Quark’s, before I knew who and what you were. And I know you want me too.” There was determination in those eyes now, iron-rooted and deep set, and Dazai knew it was an argument he’d never win short of leaving entirely, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that. “So please, just stop fucking fighting it and kiss me, Osamu.”


	6. Giving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuuya gets his kiss. And more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is /definitely/ NSFW.

_“So please, just stop fucking fighting it and kiss me, Osamu.”_

Chuuya’s lips were amazing.

One could say Chuuya’s lips were always amazing, but these were just different enough that he could stay in the present, could appreciate the body in his arms. They were softer, fuller, the taste not of wine and cigarettes but of strawberries and something he couldn’t quite identify but very much liked. And the kiss itself..

The kiss was slow, probing, a bit unsure, but it deepened quickly, and Chuuya twisted in Dazai’s lap, barely breaking the kiss as he climbed on his knees and straddled the brunette. The redhead wrapped his arms around Dazai’s neck, tangling his fingers in curly locks, and Dazai moaned and pulled him closer. 

Finally, they broke the kiss, pulling back long enough to catch their breath. Chuuya’s kiss-swollen lips curled up in a smirk. “There, Osamu,” he said, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“ _That’s_ not the hard part,” Dazai all but growled, and the smirk grew.

“Ah? Well, I don’t have to be back on duty until 1000. Why don’t we see if we can’t do something about that?” Chuuya’s fingers tightened in his hair, and Dazai closed his eyes, trying to regain some semblance of his control.

“Chuuya, this really-” He was cut off as a finger pressed against his lips.

“Osamu, I’m 25. I’m not a kid. This feels _right._ I’ve been waiting to find someone- no. I’ve been waiting for _you._ Every part of me wants this. My body is literally screaming at me to rip these clothes off and let you bury yourself inside me. I have never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you right now. So please. I know it’s weird, and a bit awkward, and there’s a chance this will all end up badly, but I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

Dazai closed his eyes, his conscience at war with his desires. He _did_ want this, wanted it so badly he could taste it, but this wasn’t his Chuuya, wasn’t his…

But his Chuuya wasn’t his anymore, was he?

His Chuuya was three centuries in the past. Dazai had told him to move on, to find someone he could stay with, someone else to fill that place in his heart, and he had. And the ultimate result of that was right in front of him, all but begging to take his place. To be the one _Dazai_ could stay with.

Maybe he should take his own advice.

He reached up, taking Chuuya’s hand and moving it away from his lips. When he opened his eyes, Chuuya’s gazed back at him, pupils blown wide enough to almost devour the blue. When he spoke, his voice was low, rough, on the verge of being a growl. “Chuuya’s been waiting for me, hmm? Does that mean I’m his first?’

Chuuya shuddered and nodded. “I never really wanted anyone else before you. Not enough to go through with it, anyway.”

_Fuck._ “Alright.” A quick command dimmed the lights. Dazai slipped his hands beneath Chuuya’s shirt and drew it over his head, tossing it aside. He’d left his coat in his quarters- there really wasn’t a reason to wear in on the station- and his hands went to the buttons on his waistcoat, making quick work of them. Chuuya’s were already on the ones for his shirt, and a few dexterous movements had them open and both items of clothing off and on the floor. He chuckled a bit.

“Softly, Chibi. We have time.”

“I know.” Chuuya bit his lip, then ran one hand over the bandages. “Can these come off? I won’t push, but… I saw most of what’s under them when we pulled you off the shuttle. Your clothes were pretty shredded.”

Dazai blinked at him for a second, parsing the subtext of that. _‘I saw what’s underneath them, and I don’t care. I want to see, to feel you.’_

“Yeah,” he said finally, grinning slightly. “They can come off.” He touched the bandages, and with a tiny flash of power, they unraveled and joined the shirts on the floor.

It was Chuuya’s turn to blink. Then he grinned as well, and leaned in for another kiss, pressing their chests together and moaning slightly at the contact. “God, you feel so good,” he murmured against Dazai’s lips.

“So do you.” Dazai tilted his head, moving from Chuuya’s lips to his neck, starting just behind his ear and kissing and biting his way down it, drawing gasps and cries from the man in his arms.

“F-fuck, Osamu. St-st-stop teasing and get on with it, please.” Chuuya’s voice was already desperate and broken, and Dazai pulled back for a second.

“Chuuya, do you trust me?”

“Wh-what?”

“Do you trust me?” Chuuya nodded, swallowing hard, and Dazai smiled softly. “Then trust I’ll take care of you, okay? It’s your first time. I am going to make this worth the wait, alright?”

_I’m going to make it worth it. But first, I’m going to take you apart at the seams. Hmm. I don’t know how thick these walls are…_

Dazai waved a hand, a small flash of power radiating from it, and Chuuya blinked at him again. “What was that?”

“Soundproofing. We’re going to need it.”

The redhead swallowed audibly at that. “Fuck.”

“That is the idea, Chibi.”

It didn’t take long for the soundproofing to come in handy. With a few practiced moves, Dazai had flipped them, laying Chuuya out on the bed, and for just a second, a different face tried to superimpose itself, but he shoved the image aside. The brunette paused for a moment, just appreciating the sight beneath him. Fiery hair fanned out across the sheets, the silver earring on his right ear glittered in the dim lighting, and blue eyes blazed with desire. Pale skin was flushed red as Chuuya reached down to strip off his sweats while Dazai undid his own belt and slacks and let them drop. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.” Chuuya’s voice was thick with desire and need, and he pushed himself up on his elbows to get a better look at Dazai as he stood at the edge of the bed. “I knew you would be.”

“You knew?” Dazai’s voice was teasing as he climbed onto the bed, crawling up Chuuya’s body and hovering above it on all fours as he kissed the redhead.

Chuuya returned the kiss eagerly, balancing on one arm as the other hand went to Dazai’s hair. He nodded as the kiss broke. “I knew,” he half-whispered. “I've been dreaming about this for years. I didn’t realize it was you, not until I heard your voice just now. I think part of me knew the first time I saw you, but the details were hazy enough I couldn't be sure.”

He looked up into Dazai’s eyes. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not the first dream I’ve had that came true. A gift from my mom’s side of the family. They've always been seers.”

“Hmm. So I’m literally Chibi’s dream guy, huh?” Dazai said with a smile. “I believe you. Trust me, I’ve seen weirder gifts. So what did I do in these dreams?” 

“A lot- a lot of things. It was different every- ah, god!” Chuuya cut off with a cry as Dazai sank his teeth in the juncture of his neck and sucked. His hand tightened almost painfully in Dazai’s hair, and it was all he could do to keep himself from collapsing backward. “Please, Osamu. Need you to t-touch me. Please.”

Dazai pulled back slightly, his eyes and smile dark with a wicked promise. “Well, when you ask so nicely,” he said, and wrapped his hand around Chuuya’s cock, squeezing lightly, then stroking him; gently at first, long fingers tightening and moving faster as he went. His lips returned to Chuuya’s neck, then moved down to his chest, biting and kissing his way down, and the redhead keened, his back arching as warm lips closed around a nipple.

It wasn’t long before Chuuya could no longer hold himself up, could no longer think beyond the sensation of fingers and lips, and he gasped out a “Osamu, I’m- fuck, I’m close, please don’t-” and then his body jerked, white spots exploding in his vision as he came. 

“God, Osamu,” he said, breathless, once he could think a little again, “that was… oh my god.”

“Glad you enjoyed it, Chibi,” Dazai replied, that darkness still in his eyes. “Rest a second, but we’re not done yet. Not by a long shot.”

Chuuya opened his eyes at that, his pupils still blown wide with _want_ and _need_ and a desire he’d never felt before. “Good,” was all he said, before closing them again and letting himself come down from the high of the orgasm. He missed the brief flash that was Dazai summoning a bottle of lube and a damp cloth, and the warmth running over his stomach, cleaning him up, was a little jarring at first.

The pop of the cap surprised him as well, as did the tip of Dazai’s finger a second later, circling his entrance, and he squirmed at the sensation.

“This okay?” Dazai asked. “Or was there another position…”

“No. This is fine,” Chuuya said quickly, his eyes slitting open just enough to see Dazai. “I want to see you. It’s just a little surreal. I’ve dreamt of this so much, it’s hard to believe it’s actually happening, you know?”

“Believe it, Chuuya,” Dazai said, his voice low, and he bent to kiss Chuuya. This kiss was gentle, with none of the desperation of before, and he smirked a bit as the redhead melted beneath him. Dazai gave Chuuya a second to relax, then slid that finger knuckle-deep inside him. 

“Fuck,” the redhead breathed. “Warn a guy.”

“Are you okay?” Dazai asked, moving the finger experimentally. “God, you’re tight.”

“Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting it,” Chuuya answered, his hips bucking slightly. “Never done-” he hissed softly as Dazai pushed his finger in a little further, “this before.”

“I can tell.” Dazai’s finger was fully inside Chuuya now, and he moved it a bit more, searching for that one spot…

Chuuya’s back arced off the bed and he cried out as Dazai’s finger found his prostate. “Ah, there we go. You’re making such pretty noises for me, love.” He crooked the finger, dragging in and out over that spot, and the redhead bucked his hips, whimpers and moans crawling their way out of his throat.

“Such gorgeous noises. I’m going to add a second one now, okay?” Chuuya nodded, gasping as Dazai’s finger stilled for a moment, then all but _screaming_ as Dazai’s fingers rammed directly into the bundle of nerves, abusing it mercilessly until the other was a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. It was getting difficult to ignore his own arousal, but that was okay. He was having far too much fun driving Chuuya insane.

Dazai backed off for a moment, scissoring his fingers, stretching the muscles until he could slide a third finger in, and Chuuya bucked up to take as much of them as he could. “Good. Take what you need, love,” he said, continuing to stretch the other. He was almost there, but Dazai didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want to take the chance on hurting him. 

Chuuya was beyond caring at this point. His cock was achingly hard again, flush against his stomach and leaking, and the stretch from the fingers in his ass ached just a little. Those fingers felt so, so good, but they just weren't enough, and he struggled to form words, his voice desperate and rough as he tried to breathe. “Need you. Need… fuck me. Please.” His hands fisted in the sheets, almost hard enough to rip them, before one shot up to wrap itself around the nape of Dazai’s neck. His legs went around the brunette’s waist, and he pulled himself up to kiss Dazai, messy and rough and demanding as he used his legs to fuck himself on Dazai’s fingers.

Dazai swore softly as the kiss broke. This was what he’d been waiting for. He pushed Chuuya down, holding him in place with one hand as he withdrew the other, and Chuuya moaned and whimpered at the emptiness. It was the work of only a second or two to coat his cock in lube, and he let out a moan of his own at the feeling of his slicked fingers. Another few seconds had him gripping Chuuya’s hips, lifting him slightly as he lined himself up. “Ready?”

Chuuya nodded, breathing too hard to speak, and Dazai pushed in, watching the redhead react beneath him as he entered in one long, slow thrust. Finally, he bottomed out, and paused to let the redhead adjust. “God, you feel amazing. So tight, but perfect.”

“S-so do you,” Chuuya said, forcing his eyes open as Dazai started to move. The brunette’s pupils were blown wide, the brown swallowed by black, and the smirk on his face was sinful and mischievous and dark. It took everything he had not to _scream_ as Dazai shifted just enough and found that spot again. He forced out words instead, mostly “yes” and “god” and “don’t stop Osamu”, until he was too far gone to think straight and the sounds turned to moans and, eventually, screams, as Dazai pushed him over that edge and his entire body seized with the force of it. 

Dazai tipped over that edge a moment later, thrusting deep inside Chuuya as he came, then bent to rest his head on Chuuya’s chest. He stayed there for a second, then sat back up and pulled out carefully. Chuuya whimpered a little at the loss of warmth, but he was still too dazed to really register it, and Dazai grabbed the cloth from earlier, cleaning them both gently. 

He collapsed beside Chuuya and chuckled softly. This _really_ hadn’t been the plan for the night. Dazai had come here to talk, to find more clues about his past, maybe to ask about the journals if the redhead seemed amenable. Fucking Chuuya senseless hadn’t entered his plans at all. Although, now that he thought about it, it probably should have. The attraction had been there on both sides, after all, and while the situation was still complex, there were...ways. Ones he’d never really considered until now, and ones that would probably get him in trouble with the Continuum, but that was nothing new. By now they expected him to cause problems- most likely they’d yell at him then give him the cold shoulder for a century or two, not that he cared. The only one he ever really talked to was his cousin anyway, and Q would probably agree with him. He’d offered to bring _Riker_ over, for Q’s sake.

_Ah, Chuuya, you really do love making my life complicated, don’t you? Even three centuries later. Still…_

_I’ll always love you. That was never a lie. But, I’m happy that you could move on, that you found someone to stay with. It’s too soon to tell, but… maybe I have too._


	7. Ryuunosuke, and Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another familiar face joins the mix, and Chuuya gets of taste of what his ancestor endured.

Chuuya dozed off as they lay there, and Dazai pulled him close, then created a soft blanket big enough to cover them. His power was slowly coming back- he could already feel the flow beneath his skin increasing. It was still a fraction of its normal self, but it was still an encouraging feeling, and small items like this barely even registered. It was nice, laying there with Chuuya in his arms; familiar yet not in all sorts of ways. This Chuuya was so different than grandfather had been- similar personalities, but… past Chuuya had been shrouded in the darkness even before they’d met. Life on the streets and in the Sheep had toughened him in ways this Chuuya would never know, and the Port Mafia had refined him into a weapon of destruction. With a jolt, Dazai realized he remembered more of their shared past. Including their first meeting.

And their last.

Dazai wormed his way out from under Chuuya, then grabbed his clothes and redressed quietly. He forwent the bandages for now- the clothes covered the worst of it anyway, and rewrapping them would take too long. Once that was done, he summoned paper and a pen, and wrote Chuuya a note, leaving it beside him, then vanished from the room.

Chuuya woke several hours later and stretched. The ache in his lower back was unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and he smiled as he remembered the cause of it. That had been so much better than any of his dreams had ever hinted at. His outstretched hand hit a paper, and he grabbed it reflexively. It took a moment before his sleep-addled brain could make sense of the words.

_Chuuya,_

_Left to take care of a few things. If you’re still interested in seeing what Corruption can do, meet me in the holodeck in a few hours. No rush, I’ll be there for a while._

_Osamu_

_Well, at least he left a note._

Chuuya checked the time. It had been a few hours. He really should be sleeping, but the other had piqued his curiosity, and it’d hardly be the first time he’d pulled a shift on little to no sleep. The dinner with Picard might be a little rough, but he should have time for a nap if it came to that.

He grabbed his clothes off the floor and redressed. This should be interesting.

_/Interesting is one word for it./_ Arahabaki’s voice answered his thought.

“What?” 

_/There’s a reason Dazai did what he did. It’s a good thing you’re strong. Some of your predecessors never would’ve survived unleashing me, even with the deal in place./_

“Well that’s not intimidating at all,” Chuuya muttered, and the god’s laughter echoed in his head as he left the room and headed for the holodeck.

Quark called out to him as soon as he entered the bar. “Hey Chuuya. Your friend’s in suite three. He’s an odd one, isn’t he?”

Chuuya nodded in acknowledgement. “You have no idea.”

Dazai looked up as Chuuya entered the holodeck. “Ah, there you are, Chibi. Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” Chuuya looked at the stack of books sitting next to the brunette, and his eyes went wide. “Are those-”

“Chuuya’s journals? Yes. Well, exact replicas of them, down to the last molecule. Your copies gave me the idea. I was tempted to just take the originals, but it seemed a shame to desecrate them after all this time.” As he spoke, he produced a knife and carefully slit the front cover of one of the journals. Chuuya’s shock and confusion was replaced by understanding as Dazai slid a photo out of the cover. 

“Is that…?”

“Us. Yes. At 17 or so.” Dazai caressed the photograph with one finger. It was actually a pretty good photo. There weren’t many with the two of them; Chuuya had had a brief interest in photography, but catching both of them in one shot was never easy. This had been on one of their rare days off together. “I remember this. It was the day after we got back from an undercover mission in Italy.”

Dazai chuckled at the memory. “He _hated_ most of that mission. We were canvassing a new potential business partner who had a thing for young redheads. Not uncommon, but this one was a real sleazeball, and Chuuya had to play this demure little girl while I got to be the overprotective boyfriend. Which I was anyway, but that was beside the point.”

Chuuya’s mind blanked at that. “Wait. Little _girl?_ ”

“Yep. Mon petit mafia made a very convincing girl once Kouyou got ahold of him and taught him a few tricks. She was one of the other Executives, and ran the courtesan side of the business. Chuuya called her Ane-san; she basically took him under her wing, the way I was under Mori’s.” His mouth tightened at that, but he shook his head and continued. “Sometimes it was fun, and having an excuse to dance together was never a bad thing, especially since he was ethereal on the dance floor. It was one of the few places he ever really let go.”

Chuuya sat next to Dazai. “Wish I could see that. He sounds amazing.”

Dazai smiled. “Oh, he was. Caring, compassionate, strong… we lived in the darkness, but he never let it break him. It would have been so easy for him to trip into the abyss and become a monster, but he never did. In fact, he saved me from it more times than I could count, even after I abandoned that lifestyle. And him, for a while.”

The brunette waved a hand, and the scene changed, becoming a ballroom filled with couples in suits and evening gowns. “As far as seeing him, watch the center of the floor.” Another wave, and the movement started.

Chuuya rose, making his way to the dance floor and standing slightly off to one side of the center. He didn’t recognize the song, but the couple that dominated the center was another matter entirely. They were a little older than in the picture- twenty or so, he thought- and Chuuya was wearing a red ball gown and matching heels, while Dazai was in a silver-gray suit. They looked good together. 

Dazai joined him a moment later. Chuuya gestured to the figures in front of them. “He does look good in a dress. I have to ask, though- what’s with the haircut? Was that a thing back then?”

The brunette looked at him, his face thoughtful. “You know, I never asked. This was after I left; sometime during those two years he cut it. It suited him so well I never really made an issue of it.”

He thought about that a moment longer, then shook his head and continued his narrative. “This was a gala thrown by the head of an outfit in Tokyo that was trying to muscle into Yokohama. We really shouldn’t have been together- he was an Exec, and I was a traitor who’d just started working for a rival organization. But he wanted backup for the mission, and there wasn’t anyone else he could really trust to do the job. So he called me. It was the first time we’d been out together in two years, but it felt like we’d never separated at all. We started dating again after this.”

The dance paused, and Dazai’s eyes turned dark. “The next time we worked together was two years later. That job wasn’t nearly as fun. It was also the first time in four years he pulled out Corruption.”

The scene changed again, this time to a clearing in front of a rundown house. Unconscious bodies littered the ground, and Dazai was off to one side while Chuuya stood in front of some nightmarish monster, in the middle of pulling off his gloves. Dazai spoke softly. “This is what Corruption looks like from the outside, Chibi,” he said, then started the scene. The words that came from his grandfather resonated inside Chuuya, and the god in his head chuckled at them.

_//”Grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again.”//_

_Red and black markings crawled across Chuuya’s skin, and his eyes went pure white as Arahabaki took over. Miniature black holes formed in his hands, and the thing that was Chuuya attacked the monster in front of him._

“They called us Soukoku. Double Black. Twin Dark. Devastating Rivals. No one even knew we’d been together almost the entire time. That was a secret it wasn’t safe to share, even when we were on the same side,” Dazai said. “Even on missions like this, when it was just us, we kept up the act. Well, most of it was an act. We did bicker a _lot._ I was ice, he was fire. It made for some spectacular explosions.”

Something in Dazai’s voice made Chuuya tear his eyes away from the spectacle in front of him. There was a depth of pain and sorrow in the brunette’s eyes that was painful to watch, and he turned back, giving Dazai a moment of privacy. He’d known the basic story of their partnership, but it was obvious that so much had been left out. Probably deliberately; even sharing what he had must have hurt his grandfather immensely. 

Eventually, the fight ended, and Chuuya watched as then-Dazai nullified Corruption. “It really did almost kill him, didn’t it?” he asked, and Dazai nodded. 

“This was nothing. There were a few times I thought I’d lost him entirely. Eventually we had the timing down a science, but there were a few times… like the time after this. I’d show it to you, but I was unconscious and nearly dead for most of it. I’d been stabbed with a poisoned knife.” He smiled, remembering. “That was the only time Chuuya managed to direct Corruption, at least for a few seconds. He woke me up by punching me; I’d hidden an antidote capsule in my mouth before it all started, and the punch broke it open. That fight left a good bit of downtown Yokohama in ruins- I’m told he actually picked up a building and used it as a club.”

“Shit. What the hell was he fighting?” Chuuya asked.

“A dragon made up of a fusion of hundreds of abilities that had been stolen from their owners. Including my own,” Dazai replied. “It was…. complicated.”

“Sounds like it. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like. You guys had a hell of a life, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. We did. Do you still want to know what Corruption feels like? I can show you, but not here. We’d have to go somewhere else for a few minutes.” He waved a hand, and the scene vanished, along with the books. The black and yellow grid of the holodeck surrounded them instead.

“Where exactly are you planning on taking me?” Chuuya asked. He wasn’t at all sure he was ready for this.

“Someplace deserted. Don’t worry, Chibi. I won’t let you go long enough to actually do more damage than Baki can heal in the next few hours,” Dazai said with a grin.

“That’s not exactly comforting,” Chuuya pointed out. 

Dazai’s grin widened. “Now you sound just like him. Come on Chibi. Don’t you trust me?”

“I- yeah.” Chuuya grumbled. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

The grin softened a bit, and with a flash of light, they were… somewhere. It looked like an abandoned quarry, although Chuuya didn’t even know what planet they were on, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Alright,” Dazai said. “Arahabaki. For this one occasion only, I suspend our deal. Agreed?”

_/Finally. I agree./_

“He says yes,” Chuuya said, hand against his temple as the god’s voice echoed in his head.

“Then, you know what to say, Chuuya. I’ll give you about 90 seconds.”

Chuuya nodded. “Grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again.”

It was...terrifying. Chuuya’s conscious mind receded as the god took over and he became a passenger in his own body. He felt and heard and saw everything and nothing, the roaring of the god drowning almost everything out until he couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t see for the haze that covered his eyes, and then….

A cool rush of power flowed through him, chasing the god back into his cage, and words penetrated the fog of his mind…”Rest now, Chuuya. That’s enough.”

The redhead fell to his knees. He felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside. “Fuck. That was 90 seconds?”

“A little less, actually. You don’t have the resistance Chuuya built up, or the stamina. He used _Sorrow_ pretty much daily, and Corruption far too often for the toll it took on him,” Dazai answered. “Come on. Let’s get you back so you can rest.”

Chuuya nodded, not surprised to find them back in his room a second later. He collapsed onto the bed. “God, I’m tired. And I hurt. How the hell did he survive doing this?”

Dazai smirked. “Sheer force of will, I think. He was one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. And he was the best martial artist in the Port Mafia, one of the two or three top fighters in Yokohama, and I think only Atsushi could match him for sheer power. I got those two to spar _once_ \- between them, they took out three full kilometers of countryside, and Corruption wasn’t even involved.”

“Damn.” Chuuya looked at Dazai. “You’re pulling out a lot of stories. Are your memories back?”

“...Not all of them. Reading Chuuya’s journals helped. He wrote a _lot_ while we were together, and that kind of jumpstarted everything else. I know there are gaps, but they’ll fill in eventually.” Dazai sat next to Chuuya on the bed, but didn’t touch him. Touching him would keep him from healing, and Chuuya couldn’t afford that right now.

“I know it’s not exactly normal to start a new relationship by waxing poetic about the one you had with the other’s great-great-whatever grandfather, but we’re not exactly normal either, are we?”

Chuuya snorted tiredly. “Not remotely, no. I’m the vessel of a god of destruction, and you’re an immortal with cosmic-level powers. I have to ask, though- did you ever tell him who you are?”

“Not in so many words, no. He wouldn’t have had any sort of frame of reference for it anyway, and I was still missing a lot of my power back then.” It’s Dazai’s turn to snort. “Back then. It was literally a couple of days ago for me, and it’s less than a year after I went back in the first place. You know, I never expected to spend a decade there. It’s a good thing I did- history would’ve turned out very differently otherwise- but I figured I’d spend a year or two at most, just long enough to heal, and then I’d come back. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“Obviously.” Chuuya yawned. “I’m exhausted. Think I’m gonna pass out now.”

“Okay. Goodnight Chibi. I’ll see you at dinner.” Dazai rose from the bed, intending to leave, but…

“Stay. Please.” Chuuya’s voice was hesitant, and the brunette turned to face him.

“If I hold you, you won’t heal as fast,” Dazai said gently. It was the part they’d both hated most about Corruption’s aftermath.

“I know. Just… shut him up? Until I go to sleep? He’s so loud…”

“I know, love. Alright.” Dazai waited until Chuuya undressed and climbed under the blankets, then laid next to him, one hand on his cheek as his thumb caressed Chuuya’s cheekbone. “Better?”

“Much. G’night Osamu,” Chuuya mumbled, and a moment later he was asleep.

Dazai ended up staying the entire time. He didn’t hold Chuuya constantly, but much like his ancestor, Chuuya’s sleep was riddled with nightmares. It had always been a balancing act for the two of them; Dazai’s touch was the only thing that quieted them, but holding him too long impeded Baki’s healing. It had usually ended up with Dazai catnapping for three or four days, then crashing for a day once Chuuya was mostly healed. They’d spent the better part of a year doing that, actually, since Mori had seemed hell bent on using Corruption on their enemies whether or not the situation actually called for it. 

It had taken Dazai far too long to realize that was one of the reasons his sleep patterns had been pretty much permanently fucked. At this point he didn’t really care; Q didn’t sleep. Of course they didn’t eat, or drink, or do a lot of other things he’d grown used to over the past decade either. He had a feeling he’d be keeping a lot of those habits just for the hell of it- sleeping was a good way to pass the time when nothing terribly interesting was happening, which in the grand scheme of things was actually quite often. Dazai wished he’d thought of the concept of hibernation eons ago.

While he was contemplating strange things, why had past Atsushi looked like a Therian? He’d never met a human with those features before or since. Was it the tiger?

The brunette shook his head and chuckled softly to himself. Nights like this had always led to his mind wandering to odd places. 

It was about 0600 when Chuuya’s communicator beeped, and the security chief stirred, then reached for it blindly to accept the call. “Chuuya,” he said sleepily. “What’s up?”

 _"Sorry to wake you, sir. A shuttle just docked; one occupant, but the translator is having trouble understanding him. We think he’s looking for someone, though. The shuttle looks like the one that docked here a few days ago.”_ The voice was unfamiliar to Dazai, but it woke Chuuya up almost instantly.

“Okay. Keep calm. I’ll be there in fifteen.” Chuuya said, and ended the call. Then he sat up- or tried to anyway. As soon as he tried to push himself up he hissed in pain. “The hell?”

Dazai pushed him back down. “You’re still healing,” he said. “Baki tends to work on the vital stuff first. If you’d had a few more hours you’d be better off, but…”

He placed a hand on Chuuya’s chest and concentrated for a second. “That’s what I thought. Corruption affects your personal gravity too, and you haven’t built up the muscle and bone density to counteract it. You’ve got some muscle strain and a few stress fractures. Hold on.” He concentrated again, and light flashed. The pain eased almost completely, enough that Chuuya could ignore the minor aches. “There. I’m not really a healer, but that fixed most of the damage. I wouldn’t get in a fight for the next few hours, but you should be completely healed soon enough.”

“Thanks.” Chuuya rose and started collecting his uniform. “I thought you said you finished putting Atsushi’s language in the translator?”

“I finished his _dialect_. There are over a dozen. And I’m trying not to draw attention to myself, so I couldn’t just handwave it in. I think we should bring Atsushi, though, just in case. It’s not his ex, or the program would be fine. Wonder who it is?” Dazai was dressing as well, practiced movements wrapping fresh bandages with ease and skipping the ones on his torso for the moment. Technically, he could have dressed instantly, but the multiple teleports and healing Chuuya had left his energy a bit low.

Atsushi wasn’t sure who to expect either. He’d woken to the insistent beeping of the door chime and Dazai’s request to come with them. Throwing on his clothes had only taken a moment, and the trio made it to the docking bay fairly close to the fifteen minutes Chuuya had specified. The tiger was still yawning as they walked toward the shuttle, but his eyes went wide at the voice that echoed down the corridor, and he bounded ahead of the other two. Of all the people who might have followed him…

He skidded to a stop just a meter or so from the open shuttle door, and muffled an excited squeak as a slender man with gray eyes and white-tipped black hair emerged. “Ryuunosuke?” he asked, and grinned as the man turned, his own eyes wide.

“Atsushi?” the other replied, and the two closed the distance and embraced, while the security officers looked on in bafflement and Dazai just grinned.

“I think they’re friends,” he said to Chuuya, who nodded.

“Stand down,” the redhead said to his subordinates. “I’ll handle this from here.”

“Yes sir,” one of them replied, and the three men in the corridor left.

Dazai approached the pair. /”Ryuunosuke. Dragon clan?”/ he asked, and the newcomer nodded.

/”How do you know of us?”/ he asked.

/”I’ve visited Theria. It has been some time, though. Why does a Dragon seek a Tiger?”/ Dazai replied, his tone curious.

Atsushi spoke up. /”Ryu is my friend. And my partner. Our clans are allied against the Wolves.”/ 

Ryu nodded. /”I owe Atsushi a life debt. One that could not be paid with the two of us apart. Tatsu decreed I must follow once word of Atsushi’s exile reached our clan. He was quite angry with your Chiang’s mate, Atsu. Losing both of us on the eve of battle is a blow to both our clans.”/

Atsushi’s eyes were wide. /”Tatsu? Your father sent you?”/ He shook his head and turned to Dazai and Chuuya, speaking in hesitant Standard. “Ryu and I must talk. May he stay?”

It was Chuuya’s turn to nod. “I’ll inform Kira when she gets back. Come on. We can set him up in the room across from yours.”

Atsushi grinned and took Ryu’s hand, the two of them following Chuuya. Dazai lagged a bit behind, his face thoughtful. 

_This makes four. I wonder if Ryu’s clan is Akutagawa? And he and Atsushi are already partners and friends. Yosano’s a doctor. I wished to come home, but it seems like I already was, just in the wrong time. So was this always supposed to happen? Or did I change reality again without even trying?_

_I wonder if Mori and Fukuzawa are around?_

_And Ranpo? Kunikida?_

_I wonder what they’re like if they are?_

Dazai thought about that pretty much the entire way back to the rooms. Chuuya set Ryu up, and the dragon and the tiger went into it to talk. Chuuya turned to Dazai. “I’m going back to sleep for a bit,” he said. “Are you coming?” The question was flat, but there was an uncertainty behind it, and Dazai nodded. 

“Let me grab something out of my room first and I’ll be right there,” he said, and the redhead relaxed just a bit, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders.

“Okay,” Chuuya said, and turned to head back toward his room, then paused. “You can just come in now. My door will open for you.” With that, he strode away, not really giving Dazai a chance to respond.

_Okay then._

Dazai ducked into his room. Chuuya’s journals had appeared there, stacked in a corner, but the book he wanted was on his nightstand. One of the engineers had brought it to him earlier; they’d found it as they were searching his shuttle, trying to figure out where he had come from. It was the only thing on it other than Dazai.

It was a slender book, maybe 100 pages, but to Dazai it radiated power, and his fingers tingled as he picked it up and flipped through it. Most of the pages were blank; only two had any writing on them, and one of the sentences was only half-completed.

_I wish for all Abil_

He remembered how he’d gotten injured. And how he’d gotten here. The sentences were sloppy, written not in ink, but his own blood.

_Chuuya and the others are finally safe from Fyodor. There’s no reason for me to stay any longer._

_I just want to go home._


	8. History

_I just want to go home._

Home should have been the Q continuum. Instead, he’s here. Here with the descendant of the lover he left behind, one of his best friends, and his _kouhai,_ all of whom looked almost identical to their past counterparts but weren’t. Hell, two of them weren’t even human, and one was only half- not that that really mattered to him. It wasn’t like he’d ever actually been human himself, he’d just played the part. Played it halfway decently, too, for someone who really had no clue what it meant to be mortal.

Still.

He was fairly certain the years of missing memories were his price for using the Book. If Chuuya hadn’t been here, if it weren’t for past-Chuuya’s journals, it would’ve taken him a lot longer to regain them. As it was, he was still missing some, but at this point he was fine with that. If they were gone permanently it was worth it. And with Fyodor gone and the Book back in the future, his friends from back then were safe from any more interference. 

Honestly, it never should’ve been there in the first place. That was on him. He hadn’t realized it had followed him, or that the trick that had brought them to Japan had deposited it a couple of decades before his own arrival. But, then again, certain artifacts had always had something of a mind of their own. Dazai had discovered it in the ruins of an ancient civilization, one the humans would be exploring soon, and had taken it with him to keep it out of their hands- ironic, really. He’d been on his way back to the Continuum with it when he’d been attacked by one of those beings he’d mentioned, one who’d felt the power of the Book and wanted it for its own.

Which meant he really needed to get it someplace safe, and soon. He’d defeated that one, but there would be others eventually. Which meant a trip to the Continuum once he’d gotten enough of his power back. They had a vault for objects like this, ones that were useful but too dangerous to be left in the hands of mortals.

Dazai shook his head. There’d be time for this later. Chibi was waiting for him.

He should probably come up with a new nickname for Chuuya, while he was at it. Chibi was a little too...painful. And ‘mon petit mafia’ and ‘slug’ and ‘puppy’ didn’t really fit, so…

The internal debate took up most of his walk to Chuuya’s quarters. Nothing presented itself, but he’d come up with something eventually.

**********************************************

“Atsu, it is wonderful to see you again,” Ryuunosuke said, once they were alone. “I have missed you.”

“I have missed you too,” Atsushi replied. “How did you find me so fast?”

Ryu grinned. “You left a trail. I followed it. The one who assisted you in finding transport was the one who brought word to our clan. My father sent me after you the day he arrived. I have been only a few days behind you the entire time.”

“But why did he send you? I am dead to my clan, and your life debt no longer exists by our laws. You should be leading your warriors,” Atsushi said. As glad as he was to see him, Ryu shouldn’t be here. Tatsu had technically broken clan law by sending him to chase a dead man.

The dragon scowled at that. “Tatsu does not agree with the law. Nor does he agree with the one that truly led to your exile, Atsu. Part of that is practical. Neither of our clans are numerous, and neither have enough females to go around. Exiling or executing a warrior for who they choose to sleep with is uncalled for in my father’s eyes. Unfortunately, the other elders do not agree, not yet. As for the warriors, my sister can lead them almost as well as I.”

Atsushi gave him a _look_ , and he sighed. “All that is background noise. He sent me to find you to spare me my own disgrace. I protested your exile a little too vehemently, and he discerned my true feelings on the matter. Rather than have me make a spectacle in front of our _allies,_ he told me to leave and find the one I truly belonged with.” The tiger’s eyes flew wide, and Ryu nodded with a small smile.

“He sent me to find _you_ , Atsushi. I’ve been in love with you since our first battle together. I didn’t tell you because we could never have been together by Theria’s laws. And you had another. But…”

“But we’re not on Theria anymore, and neither of us can ever go back,” Atsushi whispered. “Ryu, I… I’ve had months to think about this. I was never in love with Isao. Nor was he in love with me, I think. We were… convenient to each other. I was a way to rebel against his parents. And he…”

Atsushi looked into Ryu’s eyes, and smiled at what he saw there. “He was the closest I could find to you. I love you too, Ryu. I am sorry it took exile to realize that, but perhaps it is for the best. Because you are right. There, I could never have had you. Here, though, we are free.”

Ryu’s eyes were soft, and so were his lips as Atsushi met them with his own. “You are my home, Atsu,” he said quietly as they pulled apart. “Wherever you are is where I belong.”

“Then welcome home, my love.”

***********************************************

Dazai walked into Chuuya’s room to find the redhead already undressed and back in bed. He was still awake, though, and something flashed through his eyes as the brunette approached, too fast for Dazai to make out. “Chuuya? Is something wrong?” he asked, slightly baffled by the attitude change.

“I don’t know,” Chuuya admitted. “I had some really weird dreams, but I’m not sure if they were dreams or _his_ memories. What was the Port Mafia? And the… Armed Detective Agency? Is that it?”

“Yeah. It is. Was.” Dazai sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “The Port Mafia was a criminal organization in Yokohama. _The_ organization. Mori didn’t take well to competition. Most of the missions we used Corruption for were taking care of upstarts and problems. I was a member for four years, and one of the few to survive defecting. Chuuya was there for nine. Ironic, since I was the one who basically forced him to join. We were fifteen then.” He didn’t bother qualifying the statement. Fifteen was close enough.

“The ADA on the other hand… they weren’t _quite_ the ‘good guys’ as far as the law was concerned, but they were a hell of a lot better than the Mafia. Fukuzawa Yukichi was our boss, but Edogawa Ranpo was the heart of the place. He was ungifted, but that didn’t matter; his powers of observation were even better than mine, and he could solve the most complex crimes in only a few moments, as long as he had something to work with.” The brunette shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “He had one rival, an American named Edgar Allan Poe. They ended up married a few years before I left. It’s kind of funny, actually. For being enemies and rivals, the Mafia, ADA and Guild had a lot of cross-relationships and marriages. Ranpo and Poe, Atsushi and Ryuunosuke, me and Chuuya… and there were more than a few who ended up changing allegiances along the way. The only ones we all hated were the Rats, and that’s because they were trying to kill all of us.”

Chuuya swallowed. “How many people…” he paused, and Dazai put a finger to his lips.

“How many have I killed?” Chuuya nodded, and Dazai closed his eyes. “That’s a complicated number, love. I was the Demon Prodigy, Mori’s heir and apprentice and chief strategist. There were two years where I planned almost every major operation we pulled off, and most of the minor ones. That was the life I put behind me when I left to try to live in the light. But I didn’t leave because of the bloodshed. To be brutally honest, there was a thrill to it, one a part of me never quite stopped enjoying.”

Dazai dropped his finger, and Chuuya looked at him for a long moment before closing his eyes. “Then why did you leave?” he whispered.

“Mori betrayed me,” Dazai answered. “He was one of those people that had to control everything and everyone, and he was terrified of me because I was the one piece he couldn’t predict. So he tried to bring me back in line by having my best friend’s children killed and forcing him into a suicide run. Instead, I honored Odasaku’s final wish and left. He was right, the side of the light was a little more beautiful. But it meant leaving Chuuya behind, too. I couldn’t tell him without making him a target as well.”

“God, that’s a lot,” Chuuya said, sitting up in bed and pulling his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them and laid his cheek on one knee, his eyes still closed. “Wait. Ryuunosuke and Atsushi? Like the two Therians that just showed up?”

“Yep. Our Atsushi was a weretiger. Ryu wasn’t a dragon, though Rashoumon could look sort of like one. That was his ability. It took a few forms- I’ll show you sometime.” _If you still want to be with me after this. It’s a lot to hear out of the blue. Especially since you’re effectively a cop._

“Has anyone else from your past shown up?” Chuuya’s eyes opened and he looked at Dazai, who nodded.

“Doctor Yosano. She was part of the ADA. Her ability could heal any injury, but the patient had to be mortally wounded. It helped that she was a little bit of a sadist, but she was also a good friend and would heal anyone, no matter their affiliation. She saved Chuuya at least twice.” He grimaced at those memories, then shoved them aside.

“Sadist, huh. That explains a lot,” Chuuya muttered. “Odasaku? Was that a nickname?”

Dazai nodded. “Oda Sakunosuke,” he said, and stopped as Chuuya jerked. 

“Tall, red hair, blue eyes, really really mellow?” he asked, and smiled slightly at Dazai’s expression. “Wow. Really small fucking galaxy. Prof. Oda was one of my instructors at the Academy. Creative Writing. He actually published a few books- I think one or two are on my shelf.”

Chuuya was not prepared for Dazai’s reaction. The brunette slid off the edge of the bed onto the floor, taking a position much like Chuuya, but with his face buried in his hands. After a moment, he realized the Q was sobbing, his shoulders shaking with the force of it even though not a sound came from him. “Osamu?” he asked, confused.

Chuuya’s words hit Dazai like a sledgehammer. He didn’t remember falling to the floor, didn’t really register the tears flowing down his cheeks. One thought echoed in his mind. 

_Odasaku’s alive. Alive and a writer. God._

Briefly, he cursed the fact that his energy reserves were still too low for another teleport to Earth. Realistically, dropping in on an Academy instructor claiming they were a reincarnation of the man who saved you three centuries ago wasn’t exactly a good idea anyway, but… it was _Odasaku._ The only human that had known the _truth_ of Dazai, and the one that had reminded him why he was Earth in the first place when he’d lost himself in the darkness.

The one he’d almost sacrificed everything for.

The memory flashed behind his eyelids.

_//It doesn’t matter whether you’re killing people or saving them… You’ll never encounter something that’ll exceed your expectations. That loneliness. That hole inside you… There’s nothing in this world that can fill it. You’ll be lost. Wandering in the darkness for eternity.”_

_“Be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, become a good man. Save the weak, and protect the orphans. Neither good nor evil means much to you, I know... but that'd make you at least a little bit better... Of course I know. I know better than anyone. Because... I am your friend."//_

_Odasaku. You were right but you weren’t. I had gotten lost in the darkness, lost myself to the worst side of being human. I’d given up on myself, forgotten who and what I was. You and Chuuya were the only reasons I never truly became a monster, and I couldn’t save you. I’ve changed the course of stars, watched the universe unfold, and the one time I could have saved someone I gave a damn about I was powerless._

Dazai felt the bed move behind him, and a few seconds later hands were on his shoulders. He looked up to see Chuuya kneeling in front of him, concern in his eyes, and he gave a fragile half-smile. “Sorry, Chuuya,” he said quietly. “I guess it didn’t occur to me that Odasaku would be one of the reincarnates. Losing him… the day he died was the only time in my life I’ve ever felt truly powerless. I could have saved him, but it would have taken every scrap of energy I had, and I knew he’d never forgive me if I sacrificed myself for him. So I let him go and lived the life he’d tried to have instead.”

One of Chuuya’s hands left Dazai’s shoulder and moved to his cheek, his thumb rubbing away the tear tracks as he returned the smile. “It’s probably selfish, but I’m glad you did,” he said. “I probably wouldn’t be here otherwise. From what you’ve told me, Grandfather would never have survived without you. Oda saved you from the darkness. He gave you a reason to move forward. And you did save others, didn’t you?”

Dazai nodded again. “In the end, I saved them all,” he said. “Of course, it was partly my fault they were in danger to begin with, but… I remembered how I ended up here, and why I was injured. It’s because of this.” 

He pulled the book out of his pocket. “This is an artifact, one with the power to change reality. It followed me when I fled to Earth. The Guild and the Rats were both looking for it. In the end, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, the leader of the Rats, found it. He wanted to wipe all Ability users off the face of the planet. And he almost succeeded. I stopped him before he could.”

Chuuya took the Book and flipped through it. “So it works by writing in it? Can you write anything, or are there limitations?”

“Oh, there are rules. Karma, for one. The bigger the wish, the larger the price. Fyodor’s would have been catastrophic. I’m not even sure he could have paid the price for it, but we weren’t willing to take that chance. And in the end, I was the only one that could face him. His ability could kill with a touch, and he was a brilliant strategist. It was all I could do to keep up with him sometimes. So, I tracked him down and caught up to him just as he’d started writing. We fought and I won, barely.”

Dazai opened the book and flipped to the page he’d written on. “I’d already decided it was past time for me to leave. I’d been trying to come home for years anyway, but I kept getting interrupted,” he said ruefully. “But the Book was too dangerous to leave on Earth, and I was tired of living a constant lie. I’d said my goodbyes before I left, but… I think everyone thought I was coming back. I always had before, even if it took a while sometimes. Saying goodbye to Chuuya was the hardest, and from what you said earlier I know now he didn’t believe me.”

“So that’s why you were injured…” Chuuya said thoughtfully. “And the memories?”

“I think they were my price,” Dazai said, nodding. “I might never have regained them if it weren’t for you and Chuuya’s journals.”

Chuuya sat back on his heels. “Still a lot. But at least some of the dreams make more sense now. Speaking of which, I probably should go back to sleep for a few. I don’t have to be up for two hours yet.”

The brunette nodded. “Still want me to stay?”

“Please.” The redhead blushed a little at the insistence (and if he were truly honest with himself, hint of desperation) in his voice, but he continued anyway. “It’s easier to sleep with you here.”

Dazai grinned slightly. “Is that the only reason?” he asked, a bit of a twinkle back in his eyes, and Chuuya blushed harder.

“No, but it’s the only one I’m going to admit to right now.”

“Fair enough.”

Chuuya woke two hours later from a dream that was _definitely_ one of his grandfather’s memories, and he silently cursed at the god in his head.

_Dammit, Baki. You do realize I have to get ready for work, right?_ _  
__/I know. This was one of the mild ones./_

_It- what? That was_ mild?

The god only laughed, and Chuuya blushed as he realized Dazai was laying next to him, one hand running up and down his side. “Morning,” he said, burying his face in the pillow.

“Morning, love.” Dazai chuckled at the fiery blush and petulant tone. “Interesting dream?”

Chuuya turned to glare at him at that. “More memories. What the hell- no, never mind. I don’t think I _want_ to know. Baki thinks he’s funny, but I really think I can do without the visions of you and my grandfather sleeping together.”

“Yeah, I can see where that would be weird. Be nice, Baki.” Something flashed in the Q’s eyes, and Baki’s laugh ended abruptly, replaced by a sigh.

_/Fine./_

The redhead blinked, then shrugged. He wasn’t awake enough for this. “So what are you going to do while I’m working?” he asked.

“Probably sleep. I’ve used a lot of energy the past few days, and it’s taking its sweet time coming back. It’ll probably be a little while before I’m back to full power at this rate,” Dazai answered, not missing the way Chuuya’s shoulders hunched at the thought.

“What happens then?” he asked quietly. “Do you just go back to the Continuum or whatever?” _Are you going to leave me the way you left him?_

“Only long enough to drop off the Book. After that… well. There are options, love. Ones that it’s a little too early to discuss yet. You should probably get to know me better before you decide on eternity.” Dazai tried to keep his tone light, but only succeeded halfway. 

Chuuya huffed a short, bitter laugh at that. “What options? Turn me into one of you?”

“Actually, yes.” Chuuya sat up at that, and Dazai shrugged. “It’s been done. Not often, but talk to Riker if you get a chance. My cousin gave him that option a few years ago. He decided to stay human. Much different scenario, though. Of course, there was also the girl that Picard almost dated that ended up travelling with my cousin for a while… Vash, I think her name was. She was interesting.”

“So how come she didn’t take the option?” Chuuya asked, now curious. 

“I don’t think he gave her one. It wasn’t a relationship, not really. And they parted ways after a year or two, relatively speaking. Riker was more in the nature of a bet.” Dazai grinned. “I told Q he’d lose that one. Picard’s people aren’t that easy to tempt.”

“Heh.” Chuuya turned back to gathering his uniform. “I’m going to grab a shower. Want to have breakfast with me before you go to sleep?”

“Sure.”

Dazai’s sleep was restless at best. The sudden influx of memories made itself known in his dreams, and nights with Chuuya ran into cases with the ADA ran into missions in the Mafia… He woke up incredibly groggy, and it took a few moments to register the beeping of his door chime. “Come.” He was covered enough.

Atsushi and Ryu stood there, more than a little embarrassed when they realized he’d been sleeping. “Sorry,” Atsushi said. “We can come back?”

“No, it’s fine,” Dazai answered, and gestured at the pair to enter. “What’s up?”

The pair looked at each other, and Ryu answered, lapsing back into Therian. /”We wanted to thank you. If you hadn’t been here, our arrivals would not have gone as smoothly. It had not occurred to either of us that our language would not be spoken here.”/

/“You’re welcome. It was a stroke of luck, actually. I’ve only been here a few days myself.”/ The brunette noticed the way they were standing, the way their fingers were just shy of being linked together, and grinned. 

/”Congratulations, by the way. I had a feeling Tatsu didn’t send you all the way out here for a life debt that should no longer exist. Are you planning on staying on the station?”/

Atsushi blushed. /”We haven’t decided yet. You seem to have traveled widely. What do you recommend?”/

Widely traveled was an understatement. /”You’re both warriors and hunters. There are a few planets that would suit you well. It really depends on what you want, though. Just because you were raised as warriors doesn’t mean that’s all you are. There is a universe of possibility out there. I would take some time and really decide what kind of future you want, then choose a place that will let you pursue that.”/

Ryu nodded. /”That sounds wise. This is a choice we never expected to have. Making a decision too quickly would be folly.”/

/”Indeed.”/ Dazai yawned. He had a few hours before he was supposed to meet Chuuya. /”Atsushi told me his warrior name. May I know yours?”/

The dragon nodded. /”Rashoumon.”/

_Of course it is._ /”Citadel gate? There’s a story there.”/

/”Our first mission together. I was in command of a mixed company of warriors. Atsu led the tigers. We held out again a much larger force of wolves and kept them from taking the city.”/ Their hands were linked now, and Dazai’s grin widened.

/”A worthy title, then.”/

/”It is,”/ Atsushi agreed, a glow in his eyes as he looked at Ryuunosuke, and Dazai was hit with a memory of a different Atsushi, a different Ryu, still a dragon and a tiger but it had taken them _so long_ to get to the point of trusting each other, much less falling in love. Getting those two together had been one of the better things he’d done during his tenure on Earth, and he was glad he’d at least been there for their wedding. Briefly, he wondered how they’d taken his disappearance. The two of them had been closer to him than anyone but Chuuya.

He shook that thought off. Maybe one of these days, when his powers were back, he’d check up on them.

The two in front of him, though… /”Atsushi, did you show Ryuunosuke the holodeck yet?”/ he asked, and the tiger shook his head. 

/”We’ve been too busy talking. That is an idea, though. It has been too long since we hunted together.”/

/”Why don’t you take him there. Tell Quark to put the time on my tab. Ryuunosuke, your language will be in the translator in a moment. You should have no problem communicating.”/ The brunette yawned again and stretched, casually waving his hand as he did so, and the entire Therian language was now in the program.

“Thank you, Dazai,” the dragon said with a slight bow.

“No problem. Go ahead and have fun. I have to get dressed. Chuuya and I are meeting for dinner in a bit.” Dazai grinned at the pair, who said their goodbyes and took off for the holosuites.

_Now. What to wear, what to wear...._

He reached over and grabbed the communicator pin, activating it. “Chuuya,” he said.

_“Dazai? What’s up?”_ The answer came quickly.

“I forgot to ask. How formal is tonight?”

_“Tonight? Oh. Dinner. Moderately, I think. It’s just Picard and a few of the senior staff.”_

“Alright. See you in a few hours then, mon cheri,” Dazai said with a grin.

_“Dazai!”_ the other growled, somewhat embarrassed. _“Not when I'm working, please.”_

“Sorry.”

_“Sure you are. I’ll see you in two hours.”_

Dazai grinned as the other cut the connection. 

_Moderately formal, huh? Well, it has been a while since I wore black, and it’s not like anyone here is going to know the difference. I think I saw a tailor’s shop on the promenade- time to go see what they’re calling a suit these days._

Turns out, suits hadn’t really changed much in three centuries. Oh, the materials were different, and there were some really _odd_ color combinations on display (which, he thinks fondly, would probably have thrown Chuuya into an absolute fit), but the basics were still the same. He decided to go with a classic cut navy blue suit instead of black. He’d always looked good in blue. 

Apparently Chuuya thought so too, if the look in his eyes was any indication. There was definitely a hint there that the redhead wouldn’t mind peeling him out of that suit later, and Dazai grinned. “Like what you see?” he asked.

Chuuya responded by grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a searing kiss. “I have been imagining all day what you would look like in a suit. I had flashes from his memories and that scene you showed me on the holodeck, but you look so much better in person. God. You look amazing, Osamu.”

Dazai returned the kiss willingly. “So, what is Chuuya wearing tonight? It’s not a formal Starfleet occasion.”

“No, it’s not, which means I don’t have to wear the dress uniform. I was thinking a suit of my own. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten a chance to wear one.”

“Ah? Does mon petit Chuu have a suit then?” Dazai asked curiously.

Chuuya quirked an eyebrow at the nickname. “Mon petit Chuu?” he asked, and Dazai shrugged.

“Petite chou is a thing, and it morphed in my head. It’s… easier to keep the past and present separate if I can call you something different,” the Q answered in a display of blatant honesty that would have floored past Chuuya. Then again, a lot of things about this would have floored past Chuuya. It was pretty much impossible to have a truly open and honest relationship when you’re lying about what _species_ you are, after all.

Chuuya nodded. That made sense, and it wasn’t like he truly minded. “To answer your question, no, I don’t. Why? Did you have something in mind?”

“Actually…” Dazai looked the other man over thoughtfully. Past Chuuya had been flashy, all sharp angles and clean lines and barely contained violence. The man in front of him, though… a black suit appeared on the bed, with a blue shirt that matched Chuuya’s eyes.

“Try it on, see what you think.”

The redhead eyes the outfit thoughtfully before skinning out of his uniform. He wondered, briefly, if this had been an outfit his grandfather had worn, if Dazai’s past still had that much of a hold on him. The answer to both was probably yes; after all, that past _had_ been less than a week ago. As much as Chuuya might resent the idea (at least in the deep recesses of his mind, where it wouldn’t show), it was going to take _time_ for Dazai to let go. An eight-year relationship didn’t vanish overnight, no matter how tempting the one in front of him was. 

Still…

He tucked the shirt in and buttoned the pants. Both felt amazing against his skin, and the fit was pretty much perfect, of course. “Sorry if this comes out wrong, but… was this one of _his_ outfits?”

“Not exactly, no,” Dazai answered truthfully. “He tended more toward red. And… you look a _lot_ alike, but you’re not, in a few ways. He was… lines and angles. Every day was either fighting or training, sometimes both. It made for very little softness. And he was flashy as hell. Not gaudy, but when he wasn’t working out he was either dressed to the nines or very punk rock. It was an odd dichotomy.”

“Punk rock?” Chuuya asked, confused by the term, and Dazai shrugged. 

“Leather and chains and clunky boots. I’ll show you sometime. The 20th century was weird when it came to fashion, and by the 21st there were so many subcultures it was hard to keep them all straight. Our offices alone were testament to that.” _That_ was an understatement if anything. No two of them had dressed anything alike.

Dazai shook off the thought. “Anyway, that suit is rather conservative compared to most of the stuff he wore. It still looks fantastic, don’t get me wrong, but it takes a certain type of flare to pull his fashion choices off. That, a ton of money to throw around, and a reputation for beating people into the ground if they got too mouthy about his attire.”

“Did that include you?” Chuuya shrugged on the jacket as he spoke.

“Most of the time, yeah. Provoking mon petit mafia was one of my favorite pastimes, and teasing him about his clothing choices was an easy way to do that. Especially his hats.” Dazai grinned, but there was a shadow in his eyes. “About the only thing I never really made fun of was the gloves.”

“Why not?”

“Because his gloves were like my bandages. A barrier. They only came off for four things- sleeping, showering, sex… and Corruption.” The shadows were deeper now, and the grin slid away.

Chuuya walked over and put his hands on Dazai’s cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs. “Hey, hey. Osamu. Focus on me. Wherever you’re going, come back, okay?”

Dazai closed his eyes, then reached out to wrap his hands around Chuuya’s waist, pulling him close enough to bury his face in the smaller man’s shoulder. He breathed deeply for a moment, grounding himself with Chuuya’s scent. It was so different from the one he was familiar with, and that helped him remember that he wasn’t back there. 

“Thanks, mon cheri. I have a feeling that’s going to happen on occasion. It’s odd. I’ve been around quite literally forever, but I think I’ve _experienced_ more in the past decade than in the past few eons. You mortals really do _live_ in the time you have, don’t you?”

“We try. Well, most of us do,” Chuuya replied. “There are still people who manage to have incredibly boring lives in spite of everything.”

“What a waste. And I say that as someone who has spent literal eons being bored out of my skull.”

The redhead’s smile was a bit lopsided. “When you say it like that, eternity doesn’t really sound all that appealing, you know.”

Dazai pulled back and looked at him, shaking his head. “That was a long time ago. Sentient life hasn’t been around all that long, galactically speaking, but you are all so _interesting._ ”

The brunette shook himself. They were getting sidetracked. “Anyway. We have time for this discussion. I believe we’re expected soon?”

“Right.” Chuuya bent to slip on his shoes, and they headed for the _Enterprise._


	9. Captain's mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuuya and Dazai have dinner with Picard, Riker, and Troi. Chuuya gets some advice, and Dazai has a talk with Picard and Data.

“So, Dazai, have you ever been to France?” The dinner was well underway, the first two courses passed in small talk and very good food. Dazai nodded.

“I have, but it’s been years,” he answered truthfully. “I actually visited Chuuya’s family’s vineyard. We didn’t meet until a few days ago, though.”

“Yes, I heard about that. You’re quite the talk of the station,” Riker said from his seat across the table. “You show up half dead, then two members of a new race follow soon after with a language the translator can’t figure out. Heck of a coincidence.”

“Will,” Deanna started, but Dazai held up a hand. 

“No, he’s right to be suspicious. That’s his job, isn’t it?” the brunette said. He looked at Chuuya, who nodded imperceptibly, and sighed. “I… wasn’t entirely truthful with Colonel Kira. Mostly because I had woken up in a strange place, injured, and missing a large chunk of my memory. For someone like me, that’s not exactly a usual occurrence.”

“Someone like you?” Picard asked. “And which part wasn’t usual? The injuries, the missing memories, or the being in a strange place?”

“The first two, mostly. I’ve never spent more than a decade in one spot, so being in a strange place is pretty normal for me. And that was an excellent question. I see you’re just as astute as my cousin says you are. He’s quite fond of you, actually. And the stories have been quite entertaining. They’re almost worth the irritation of going home for.” Dazai’s elbow rested on the table, his chin supported by his hand as a not-quite-smirk played across his lips. He wondered if Picard or the others would pick up on the hints or if he’d have to spell it out for them.

“Captain, there’s something you should know,” Deanna said, and the smirk solidified a bit.

“Oh? What is that, Counselor?” Picard asked, slightly distracted as his mind worked on the clues Dazai’d dropped.

“I can’t read Dazai,” she said. “I can sense that he’s powerful, but that’s it. The only time I’ve felt a mind like his before... “

Riker shot her a look, and she nodded. “Q.”

Dazai clasped his hands together. “Bravo, you two. You’ve figured me out. Well done.”

Picard groaned slightly. He couldn’t help it, and Dazai chuckled. “Don’t worry, mon capitaine,” he said cheerfully. “My cousin and I are two very different Q. I have no desire to mess with you or your ship or crew. I’m a scholar, not a meddler. Well, not usually.”

Chuuya snorted slightly at that. “I said not usually,” Dazai reiterated. “Yokohama was a special case. I only got involved there to keep certain people safe and the Book out of Fyodor’s hands. He would’ve won, otherwise, and that wouldn’t have been good for anyone.”

“The Book?” Riker asked. “What’s the Book?”

“An artifact. An extremely powerful artifact I found in the ruins of a civilization you won’t discover for another six months or so,” Dazai answered. “You probably know this, but there are beings out there just as powerful as we are, and most of them are not very nice. One of them attacked me before I could get back to the Continuum, and it nearly killed me. So, I took a human form and retreated to Earth’s past to hide. The Book followed me.”

Deanna spoke up. “I have to ask. Why are you telling us all this? You could have kept your identity secret quite easily.”

“True.” Dazai smiled at her. “A few reasons. One, I’ve been wanting to meet the three of you, and Data, for quite some time. Anyone special enough to keep my cousin’s attention for this long had to be quite extraordinary. Two, I wanted you to know. I’ve spent literal millenia keeping my identity secret. The four of you are some of the first mortals to know who I _really_ am. And, three, because of you, Commander Riker. You’ve felt what it’s like to be one of us.”

He looked at Chuuya, and his eyes went soft. “I’ve been contemplating giving Chuuya that option once I’ve regained my full power, and you’re probably the only person who can describe what it’s like. If you’re willing, that is.”

Chuuya looked back at Dazai, his hand reaching out to take one of the brunette’s before turning to the first officer and nodding. “I want to know what I’d be walking into, sir.”

Riker studied the security chief. Deanna’s hand reached out to his, and her mental voice sounded in his head. _“There is something about him I can’t read,”_ she said. _“They’re linked even deeper than we are, Imzadi.”_

_“So I should tell him?”_

_A nod. “Yes. I think he’s already made the choice, even if he hasn’t admitted it yet. He just wants confirmation.”_

Riker squeezed her hand and nodded. “Alright. After dinner.”

“Thank you sir.”

After the meal, Riker and Deanna took Chuuya back to their quarters to talk. Dazai, on the other hand, took Picard and Data to meet Atsushi and Ryuunosuke. Picard was an archaeologist and explorer at heart, after all, and Data was always ready to learn new things. Meeting members of an entirely new race was right up their alley. Dazai had the grace to call ahead, at least, and the pair was waiting for them at Quark’s. “Mon capitaine, Data, this is Atsushi and Ryuunosuke of Theria. Atsushi is white tiger clan, Ryu is dragon clan. Therians are shapeshifters- in Earth’s lore, they’d be werecreatures.”

“Therian- as in the word therianthrope?” Data asked, and Dazai nodded. “Fascinating. Can we see your other forms?”

Ryu and Atsushi looked at each other and shrugged. “Not here,” Ryu said. “Perhaps the- what was that word?”

“Holodeck?” Dazai asked, and the dragon nodded. “Probably a good idea, yes. Quark?”

“Suite four is open,” the Ferengi said, a few seconds later. “Same payment as last time?”

“Indeed.” Dazai ushered them to the holodeck, not missing the looks that passed between Data and Picard, and he smiled. “I may have supplied him with several bottles of high-quality, very hard to find alcohol over the last few days. I’ve kept the source incredibly vague, but it’s _amazing_ how much someone like him will give for a bottle or two of tranya. Or real sake. I don’t know who programs your replicators, Captain, but what passes for sake here is _abominable_.They’re clearly not Japanese.”

Picard made a sound of agreement. He’d often thought the same thing about the wine. Speaking of which… he tapped his communicator. “Number One.”

_“Sir?”_

“There’s a package in my quarters for the Lt Cmdr. It’s from his parents- they sent it along when we stopped by Earth on the way here. It’s a wooden crate on the floor of my closet with the Nakahara crest on it. Could you make sure he gets it before he leaves the ship?”

_“Yes sir. I’ll take care of it.”_

“Thanks, Will.”

The quintet entered the holodeck a moment later, and Dazai activated the Therian program he’d made for Atsushi. “This is Atsushi’s home territory,” he explained. “The Snow Emperor mountains. Ryu’s clan is from the south end of the range.”

Dazai grinned. “It’s sort of ironic, really. In Chinese and Japanese mythology, the dragon and the tiger are hereditary opposites, yin and yang, metal and wood. Yet here they are. Atsu, Ryu, go ahead.”

The two young men nodded and backed up a little. They closed their eyes, and a heartbeat later a white tiger and a serpentine black dragon were in their places. Ryu’s form, especially, was magnificent- something like four meters long, he hovered over the ground as his tail curled behind him.

“Their forms are very close to Japanese mythology,” Dazai said quietly. “And the language has elements of ancient Chinese and Japanese in it. Their civilization has only been around for about four thousand years. They’re not strictly human, although they do share traits and a lot of your physiology. My theory is that the first few were actually Chinese and Japanese that had been plucked off Earth and placed there by a race much like the Preservers, and given the means to adapt to their environment- which they did by taking forms from their mythology. There are even animals that are much like Earth’s, although they’ve mutated a bit as well.”

“Simply incredible,” Data said. “The mass conversions alone defy what we know of shapeshifters, and the fact that the dragon can fly with no wings or means of propulsion is staggering. How is such a thing possible?”

“‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy’”, Dazai said with a smile. “You’ve seen what the Q are capable of, Data. And humans have had their own brushes with godhood. Remember the Ability users of the early 21st century? I spent a decade in their company. I knew one boy who could create images much like this holodeck- not solid, but impressive and very convincing nonetheless. Another could make blades even stronger than steel from the clothing he wore and warp space itself. Extradimensional spaces, gravity control, healing mortal wounds with a touch… the list was incredible, and that was a fraction of one city.”

He turned to Ryu and Atsushi. “Thank you. You can change back, or go and hunt if you choose. The choice is yours.”

The dragon and the tiger looked at each other, and Dazai swore Atsushi _grinned_ before chuffing and leading the way down the mountain. He’d seen that look before on another tiger’s face, and a brief pang of loss flashed through him. Atsushi had been his student, yes, but also his best friend toward the end, and he missed him almost as much as he missed Chuuya.

He brushed that train of thought aside as Picard spoke. The captain’s voice was soft. “That artifact you mentioned- what does it do?”

“The Book? It… creates reality. Anything written in it comes to pass, but there’s a price. The bigger the wish, the bigger the cost. Fyodor Dostoevsky wanted to use it to eliminate every Ability user on the planet, including himself. I stopped him before he could, but he severely injured me as well, and I was still mostly human then. So I used it myself.” Dazai’s voice was hushed.

“And what did you wish for? What could a Q want that badly?” the captain asked.

“ _Home,_ ” Dazai said, and both the others looked at him. “I wished to go home. And it brought me here. To a place where in the space of a few days I’ve run into almost perfect reincarnations of four of the people that mattered most to me, and learned of another. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are a few more waiting in the wings.”

PIcard nodded. “Nakahara?”

“God.” Dazai ran a hand over his face. “His ultimate grandfather was… well, he could have been everything. Partner, friend, lover, soulmate… but I made it clear from the beginning that I couldn’t stay. I don’t think he ever really believed me, though. This Chuuya… he knows, well, pretty much everything. He’s special, in a way that I don’t think anyone else would ever quite understand.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” Picard’s voice held a touch of wonder, and a bit of disbelief. “I didn’t think the Q knew how to love.”

“Generally, they don’t. There are exceptions, of course. We even have children once in a while. In fact,” Dazai said with a grin, “my cousin became a father not that terribly long ago. First new Q in ten millennia. It was a huge deal.”

He laughed outright at the look of sheer horror in Picard’s eyes. “Yeah, I don’t see him as a dad either. But to get back to your original point… I didn’t either. A lot of humanoid emotions are completely and utterly foreign to us. I spent a decade as one of you, and I still don’t get them half the time. Love, though… that one I figured out because of Chuuya. And even then, it’s really hard to let yourself truly love someone when you _know_ you’re going to be leaving them behind sooner or later.”

Data nodded. Despite having access to human emotions now, he didn’t understand most of them, not really. He’d experienced love, though, and the loss of it, twice now. And both of those experiences had been brief. The android couldn’t imagine putting oneself through that for eight _years_ when one knew it would end badly. 

"Well, that's enough of that, I think," Dazai said. "The boys will be fine. Atsu knows the commands."

The trio left the holodeck. “So what are your plans now?” Picard asked curiously as they walked back to the _Enterprise_. He was actually starting to like Dazai; the Q seemed more human than omnipotent being, and the captain thought that in another time and place they could be friends, perhaps.

“I’m not staying here long,” Dazai said. “It’s too quiet now that the war’s over. Whether I have a companion or not is entirely up to Chuuya. I won’t force him either way- eternity is far too long to have him resent me for something he doesn’t want.” _It’s also far too long to nurse a heartbreak. If he decides not to come… it’s better to break it off now. I can’t do that again._

“Couldn’t you just change him back if he changes his mind? After all, Q did change Riker back when he rejected his offer,” Data said.

“It’s a little more complex than that,” Dazai answered. “Riker wasn’t fully Q, that was just a taste of our power. Chuuya will be a full-on transformation, and those get harder to reverse the longer it lasts. After a few centuries, it’ll be nearly impossible without killing him. It’s sort of the same for us- we can take a mortal form, but only once, at least voluntarily, and not for very long. Staying as long as I did was a risk.”

“Why is that?” Data asked.

“Because the only way to leave that form and come back is to die, essentially,” Dazai answered, a shadow in his dark eyes. “I _tried_ to come back, before I knew the Book was in play. People kept stopping me. The thing is, the longer we stay in that form, the more _human_ we become, the higher the risk we actually _die_. And… we can choose to die in human form as well. It’s happened. Once, at least. But that’s why I used the Book to come back here instead of just letting myself expire.”

“That makes sense,” the android said, nodding.

Picard had caught a different meaning from his words, and he was fairly certain he didn’t like the connotations. Especially given the bandages the other wore. _/People kept stopping me./ I wonder how many times he tried?_

_I doubt he even knows anymore._

He did, but the number didn’t really matter.

Chuuya had stopped him. Mori had stopped him. Atsushi, bless him, had stopped him. And then, Fyodor and the Book had come on the scene, and he’d stopped himself, because he couldn’t leave, not yet. It had taken another two years after that, and it had almost been too late. He’d almost reached that point where dying wouldn’t have brought him back. If it hadn’t been for the Book’s power, he’d still be there, still human.

And it _almost_ would have been worth it.

Millions of years of existence to save a few thousand.

He would have given it to save Odasaku.

“Dazai.” The voice cut through his thoughts, and he realized they’d reached the _Enterprise._

“Sorry,” he said. “Got lost in my thoughts for a moment. Merci beaucoup, Captain, Data. For dinner, and for listening. I’ve never told anyone the full story before. I’d appreciate it if this didn’t go any farther. No one else needs to know.”

“We didn’t _need_ to know either, Dazai,” Picard said, compassion lacing his voice. “But you needed to tell someone. Thank you for trusting us. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“No, but nothing worth it ever is.” Dazai reached out a hand, and Picard took it, giving it a firm shake. When he withdrew it, a slip of paper was in his palm. “Godspeed, Captain. And if you _ever_ need my help, send out a message on that frequency. I’ll be there.”

As Picard and Data flicked their gazes to the paper, Dazai disappeared. He’d always hated long goodbyes.

Picard and Data looked at each other. Finally the captain shrugged, and they headed for the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end, folks. Thanks for coming with me on this little journey!


	10. /Home/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dazai's powers are back, he has some unfinished business to take care of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone says anything, yes, the shift in tense is deliberate. We've caught up to the here-and-now, and the future yet lays beyond.

It takes about four months, all told.

Four months for the power under Dazai’s skin to go from a trickle to an ocean.

Four months of he and Chuuya spending almost every free minute together. Dazai doesn’t even go back to his quarters at this point. He and Chuuya are very much living together, and nobody really minds. He’s even won Kira over, using his… _interrogation_ skills when a saboteur is caught on the station, and the information he gets leads to a Bajoran dissident group the government’s been trying to track for years. Normally Kira has something of a soft spot for dissidents, but this particular batch has been targeting innocents, and that doesn’t sit well with anyone.

Four months.

One hundred twenty days.

And Chuuya still hasn’t told Dazai his decision. Or what happened during his talk with Riker and Troi.

Atsushi and Ryuunosuke have decided to stay on the station for now. Both of them are just starting to figure out who they are outside their clans; meanwhile, they’ve both happily taken spots on Chuuya’s security teams. It’s funny watching them spar with the others- both are far, far stronger than they look, and years of hunting and combat have given them incredibly sharp instincts and endurance for days. Dazai never does tell them of their past counterparts, and only shakes his head ruefully when he learns of Gin’s existence. It doesn’t surprise him at _all_ that she’s the sneakiest warrior the Akutagawa clan has ever seen.

Dazai, meanwhile, has researched the others. He finds it both bittersweet and fitting that Oda’s married to this era’s Kouyou, and they have six children. Kyouka’s their eldest, and the rest of Odasaku’s kids are there too. 

Ranpo and Poe work for Starfleet Intelligence. They’re an effective duo, if still eccentric as hell. 

Fukuzawa runs a chain of martial arts dojos. He’s among the mostly highly regarded instructors in the Alpha quadrant, and that reputation was expanding. Dazai found records of _Klingons_ coming to him for training, which said all it needed to about his skills.

Mori doesn’t exist, as far as he can tell. Which is just _fine_ with Dazai. 

Most of his friends are there, scattered around the galaxy. The ones that aren’t…well, Atsushi and Ryuunosuke wouldn’t have shown up on a search. It’s a big galaxy, after all. He might run across them, eventually.

_Home._

The one person that truly defines that concept for Dazai walks into their quarters, tired after a long shift and a few minor scuffles. “Hey love,” he says, and comes over for a kiss. “What’s up?”

Dazai looks at the redhead, drinking in the sight of him. It’s a ritual that never grows old and probably never will. His smile is tempered only by the thoughts running in the back of his mind. “Hey.” 

Chuuya pauses as his fingers tangle in brunette locks, Dazai’s tone of voice sending warning flashes down his spine. “What’s wrong, Dazai?”

“It’s time. I need to go home for a little while, long enough to drop off the Book at least. Depending on what happens, I might be a bit,” Dazai says softly. He’s already waited too long- having the artifact out in the open was courting danger, and he has too much to lose now.

“I see.” They’ve discussed this. At length. But... “ _Will_ you be coming back?”

Amber eyes lock with blue ones and their owner swallows. “That depends on you, Chuuya,” Dazai half-whispers. “Am I coming back to get you or to say goodbye?”

“I’ve never been fond of goodbyes, especially to people I care about,” Chuuya says, his voice soft. “Besides, you’ve left enough people behind. I refuse to make you go through that again. I guess you’re stuck with me, Osamu.”

Dazai lets out a breath he never realized he was holding, and pulls Chuuya close and into a deep, tender, loving kiss. “Love you so, so much, mon cheri,” he says as they pull apart.

“Love you too, mon amour.”

They spend the night together, their lovemaking slow and sensual, until Chuuya is exhausted and beyond sated, too hazy and out of it to even register Dazai tucking him into bed.

In the morning, Dazai is gone.

In the month that follows Chuuya says his own goodbyes, tendering his resignation from Starfleet and briefing his replacement. Atsushi and Ryu are sad to see him go, but they understand. Kira’s disappointed but not at all surprised. He’s not really close enough to anyone else to miss them, although he does send a message to his family. It’s vague, saying only that he’s decided to move on from the station and from Starfleet and forge his own path. The response he gets is encouraging but wary, and he promises to keep in touch. He even plans to keep that promise, for a while. 

Dazai’s visit to the Continuum takes two of those weeks. The Book is stashed in the vault, and his story is debated among the others. Eventually, it’s decided that his actions were appropriate, and he’s actually commended for defeating one of their historic enemies single-handedly. They don't even really blink at his choice to bring Chuuya into their ranks; he's done stranger things, and honestly most of them hope it'll settle him down a bit. He and Q catch up for a bit, Dazai telling of his meeting with Picard and the others, while Q and Q fuss over Q junior. The child is already a handful, and Dazai is forcibly reminded of _another_ Q. He suppresses that memory quickly- Yumeno was one of the few Ability users who’d ever actually _frightened_ Dazai. 

The other two are spent on a personal mission. It’s a little easier for Dazai to separate the past and present now, but there are a few things he left unfinished.

And one person he needs to say goodbye to one last time.

Over the course of their lives, each of Dazai’s friends experience at least one miraculous event. Some are subtle, like Atsushi and Kyouka discovering they have perfect control over their Abilities even after Fukuzawa steps down. 

Others are a little more obvious, like Ryuunosuke realizing that the lung condition that had plagued him since childhood was just… gone. In fact, he’s in better health than he’s ever been, and the timing couldn’t be better, since it happens about a week before their surrogate delivers his and Atsushi’s first child. At this point, Ryu had already left the Mafia to join the ADA with Atsushi, and their children (four all told, two girls, two boys) are inundated with aunts and uncles. Even Chuuya comes back to visit every so often, and has them out to visit for holidays. Their families grow up together- and, eventually, intermarry. In fact, Atushi’s daughter Yuuki marries Osamu, and Dazai is ecstatic when he realizes that Chuuya is descended from both of the most important people in his life.

Of course, Dazai being Dazai, some of the miracles are a little… on the nose. Such as the day Kunikida’s ideal woman walks into his life- six months ahead of schedule. Their wedding is tasteful, understated, and boring, in Dazai’s opinion, but that’s alright. His partner’s the happiest he’s ever been, and that’s all that matters.

Chuuya, of course, gets a few extra. 

Two major wars are fought in the space of a few decades. Despite that, Chateau Double Noir is never damaged.

Nor does a single member of his extended family die, or even get seriously wounded, in either conflict. 

Chuuya’s _personal_ miracle is the last on the list.

And, as it so often was between the two of them, it’s at the very last moment.

The house is crowded, five generations of Nakaharas spread through it and the grounds, and the family’s grown almost exponentially. It’s easy to pass himself off as a cousin- no one can keep track of them all, and all of them assume he’s just one of the ones that had moved back to Japan and wasn’t heard from often. The sight of them is almost overwhelming; all Chuuya had _ever_ wanted was family. He’d tried to find one with the Sheep, and then with the Mafia, but here…

Here he’d found a place to stay and built a family of his own, and it was a good one.

A moment comes when one of the children sees him and startled recognition flashes through his eyes. Dazai smiles and makes his way over, patting him on the head in a familiar sort of gesture. “Don’t worry, Baki” he murmurs, pitching his voice low enough it doesn’t carry beyond their little space. “I’m only here to say goodbye properly.”

The child nods, confused but mollified, and Dazai continues on his way.

Eventually he makes his way to the master bedroom, where Chuuya’s wife and children hold vigil at his bedside, and he pauses at the sight. Even at ninety-five, his hair completely white and the blue of his eyes faded to grey, he's beautiful. Chuuya is speaking to his wife, his voice cracked with age, when his eyes fall on Dazai and time stops.

Literally.

Dazai walks through the frozen onlookers. Blue-grey eyes track him, a million emotions running across his face, finally settling on wonder and disbelief. “Osamu?” he whispers, and Dazai nods.

“Hi, Chibi,” Dazai says softly, one hand going to brush aside a lock of hair, and Chuuya’s eyes widen as an oh-so-familiar cool rush of power washes through him.

“Osamu. It is you. How-”

“Shhhh.” Dazai leans down, kissing him gently, and in a flash of light they are… somewhere. 

A park.

After a moment, Chuuya recognizes Yokohama, the bench they occupy as one of their favorites. Looking at himself, Chuuya sees leather gloves and feels a familiar weight on his head. He’s dressed in his Mafia attire, and he’s… young. “Dazai, what the fuck?” he asks the figure sitting next to him, and even his voice sounds the way it had back then.

Dazai smiles at him. “I brought you here so we could talk, Chibi,” he said. “There’s so much I wish I could have told you. So much I left unsaid. I... “

He sighs. “I got your messages. All of them, I think. And I read your journals. I’m sorry, Chuuya. I’m so fucking sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but I couldn’t stay here. This wasn’t where I was meant to be. And I couldn’t come back for you, not without messing everything up.”

“What? What does that even mean? And where the _fuck_ did you go? It was like you disappeared off the face of the planet! Even Ranpo couldn’t find you, and we looked.” Chuuya’s voice is hurt and angry, not that Dazai can blame him. Seventy years was a long time to wonder, after all.

“You couldn’t find me because I wasn’t here. I went home, Chibi. Back to where I belong, back to where I came from in the first place. I was never supposed to be here.”

“Why not?”

“Well… I’m not human. I never have been. I’m not even from Earth…”

They talk for _hours_ in that place. Dazai tells him everything- about the Q, the Book, the future...

And the truth behind his suicide attempts.

Chuuya is understandably horrified.

“Dammit, Mackerel, why didn’t you _tell_ me?” he asks, anguish coloring his words.

Dazai laughs, not unkindly. “Would you have believed me? ‘Hey, Chuuya, don’t stop me. I’m an alien who’s trying to get back home, and this is the only way to do it!’ You _already_ thought I was insane. Besides, it worked out. If I had left then, Fyodor would’ve found the Book much earlier and you _all_ would’ve died. So, as usual, you saved everyone, Chuuya. Not bad for a god of destruction.”

"Speaking of which…."

"Yes, that was me. That arrangement holds, by the way. Arahabaki will be part of your line, well, forever," Dazai says with a grin. He hasn't quite gotten to that part yet.

"Hah? What the hell does that mean, forever?" Chuuya squints at Dazai, wondering what the mackerel bastard is up to now, and Dazai's eyes and grin soften. 

"Chibi. I'd always been honest with you when I said I couldn't stay. And when I left, I told you to find someone to stay with, someone who could be by your side and fill that gap, yeah?"

Chuuya nods, and Dazai continues. "You moved on. And from what I've seen, you've been happy. Which is all I've ever really wanted for you, by the way. But, you found someone to stay with. And so have I."

"Who?" There’s just the slightest bit of hurt in that question. It’s been seven decades, but Chuuya has never been one to let go of anything easily. Especially pain.

“Arahabaki’s current host. Your ten- or twelve-times great-grandson. Who also happens to be named Chuuya, by the way. He’s a Starfleet security officer on a deep space station. He looks a lot like you, but he’s… different.” Dazai’s voice goes soft again, and Chuuya can hear the feeling in it.

“Different how?”

“You were always looking for a family and a place to stay,” Dazai says, shrugging slightly. “He’s looking for one person and places to _go._ I still love you, Chuuya, and I always will. That I never lied about. But I never could have given you what you wanted. Him, though. Him I can give _everything_.”

Chuuya looks deep into Dazai’s eyes, one hand rising to cup his cheek as he searches for something. Finally, he nods. “Alright. I still love you too, you know. I never stopped. But you’re right. I moved on. I can’t really be mad at you for doing the same.”

It’s Dazai’s turn to nod, and tears gather in the corners of his eyes. “It’s almost time, Chuuya,” he says. “I can’t hold this state for much longer. But I’m glad I got to see you again. Je t’aime, mon petit mafia. Je t'aime beaucoup.”

“Je t’aime aussi, Osamu. Kiss me one last time?” 

“Of course.” 

Their lips meet, soft and gentle, decades of love and an understanding that defies explanation passing between them with each breath. The park fades from around them, and then they’re back in Chuuya’s bedroom. Dazai is still bent over Chuuya, their lips still pressed together, and the brunette smiles gently as they part for the last time.

“Rest now, Chuuya. You’ve done so much more than enough.”

Time restarts a second later. No one notices the shadow in the corner as Chuuya’s eyes slip closed. Dazai watches as the man who taught him what the word ‘love’ really means breathes his last, a smile on his face, surrounded by the family he’d always longed for. _Goodbye, Chibi. I’ll see you in another life._

He vanishes…

...And reappears, three hundred years in the future. It’s late, and he experiences just a second of cognitive dissonance as he sees Chuuya asleep on the bed. The redhead thrashes a little, caught in the grip of a dream, and Dazai quickly shucks his clothing and slides under the covers. As usual, a touch quiets him, and blue eyes blink open. “Hey,’ he says sleepily. “Took you long enough.”

“Had some loose ends to tie up. But I’m back for good now, love.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Welcome home, Osamu.” Chuuya yawns, and he rolls over, eyes slipping closed again as he snuggles into Dazai’s side. 

_Exactly where you belong._ Dazai’s arms tighten slightly, and Chuuya makes a contented sound as he falls back asleep.

“I’m home.”

_Exactly where I belong._

Unnoticed, a page in a book goes blank as the wish it contains is fulfilled.

_Home._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. This story has been written and set since before I posted the first word, and it took so much out of me... Huge thanks to Quinn for listening to me yell about the last scenes. I never would have ventured this far without her encouragement.


End file.
